Missing Moments
by SisiDraig - 2
Summary: The Brian and Justin moments that the show didn't give us ... - There's a better description in the author's note of the first chapter - i'm just useless at summaries! -
1. Pilot

**Disclaimer: I WISH!!**

**A/N: There are loads of moments from the Brian and Justin story that we just don't get to see in the actual series, so I thought I'd have a go at writing some. There's going to be one for every episode. At least, that's what I'm hoping (it might become a bit difficult when Ethan - boo, hiss - comes into it but I'll try me bestest). If you have any moments you think might be missing, please let me know - some episodes are more difficult than others! =D That will probably show in the varying lengths, haha!**

**Anyway, here's episode one (and two, I think - but i've never seen them as seperate things so i'm not sure where the split is. :S). Hope you like it ...**

* * *

_Set just after Michael drops Brian and Justin off at the loft, just after driving them back from the hospital..._

_*_

Brian staggered through the door of his loft, dragging Justin awkwardly after him.

"Wanna drink?" he asked, going over to the kitchen and grabbing a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Water please."

"Water?!" Brian questioned, shaking his head and pouring two double Jim Beams. He handed one to Justin, "this stuff's better."

"I know, my dad keeps it in a cupboard. He only gets it out for special occasions, like when we have his clients over for dinner or if his golfing buddies are visiting."

"Is that right?" Brian said, downing his glass and pouring himself another one.

"Mm-hmm," Justin nodded, taking the tiniest sip of his drink. "He says it's the kind of drink you get out when you're trying to impress someone."

"Well my dad used to pour Jim Beam on his cereal and he didn't impress anyone," Brian said, downing his drink again and slamming it down on the table top. "Do you know what I'd do … if I were trying to impress someone?" he asked.

Justin just shook his head, taking another tentative sip of the dark liquid.

"I'd do this," Brian said, and next second, his torso had disappeared and two legs began flailing about above the counter before crashing to the floor with a loud and painful bang. Justin put his glass down and ran round the breakfast bar, to see Brian holding his back with one hand as he struggled to his feet using the other.

"Are you okay?" The kid asked, rushing to help him up.

"I'm fine," the older man snapped, jerking away sharply and getting to his feet in one swift, if slightly unstable, movement. Then, seemingly pleased with himself he took a bow and held his back again.

"Ow," he complained. "I'm a bit out of practice."

"You don't look like you've ever had any practice," Justin grinned cheekily.

"Hey!" Brian pointed a finger at the kid. At least that's what Justin assumed he was trying to do. He actually just pointed a hand somewhere at the door and wobbled about a bit. "I could have joined a circus." And suddenly he was on his hands again. This time taking a few steps, legs kicking about everywhere. He went crashing through the bar stools and collapsed in a heap.

"Do you need some help?" Justin asked, not at all sure what was going on anymore.

"I've got it," Brian snapped, positioning himself again. First, he crashed through a table. Then the blinds, a lamp, a chair… until the entire flat was destroyed. Eventually Brian pulled himself to his feet, rubbing his head a little.

"Maybe it wasn't handstands that I was good at," he frowned. "Maybe it was…" He looked around the loft for something else he could show off with and his eyes landed on a bowl of fruit, "juggling," he grinned. He walked over and picked up two oranges and an apple. He threw them up and they immediately dropped to the floor. He didn't stop trying.

Justin just frowned as he watched this beautiful man trying incessantly to juggle some fruit. He could see Brian's eyes were loose in his skull and seemed to roll about of their own accord. It was obvious the man was still high as a kite, despite the fact he seemed to have sobered up a _lot _since the jeep.

Suddenly, Brian stopped. He was holding just one apple, the others were rolling around on the lino. He took a bite from the apple and chewed slowly. Justin watched the juices running from the corners of his mouth and the way his lips looked all wet and shiny. God, this man was beautiful. In fact, this man was probably God.

"So," Brian smirked, throwing the fruit away and finally turning his attention back to Justin, "you wanna see what else I'm good at?"

"Sure," Justin shrugged a little. And next second Brian's lips were on his and he was stripping him and dragging him to the bedroom.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!! Review?? xx**


	2. Episode 103

_Set at the end of 103 - Justin's just won back Brian's attention on the dancefloor at Babylon and Michael's watching them like  
a jealous little house wife. (Oops, was that a bit Anti-Michael there? __ I do apologise. I love Michael but his jealous wife routine  
is boring and annoying throughout the entire series!)_

_*_

The music was blaring and people were pressing against him from every side. It seemed a blonde twink with his shirt off got a lot of attention on the dance floor in Babylon. But there was only one person's attention that Justin was interested in and that was the guy who'd just grabbed his belt and was now pulling him towards the exit. Justin just followed, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. He couldn't believe his plan had worked so well. But, sure enough, he was soon climbing into Brian's jeep and the older man was getting in next to him and racing off into the night.

Brian kept checking the mirror almost nervously. He knew Michael had been watching them dance. Michael was always watching him. What was it Ted called him? Brian's own audience of one. And okay, Brian had to admit, it was a thrill to pull in front of Michael and maybe the egotistic side of him enjoyed it when Michael got jealous. But Brian _really _didn't want to have to discuss this particular decision with a jealous best friend. He knew Michael was aware he was about to break his one-fuck-only policy and he knew Michael would have something to say about it. In fact, he'd probably have a lot to say about it but he really didn't care. Brian just wanted to go back to his loft, fuck the twinks brains out and move on to the next.

So what if he wanted the kid twice, that was his business and no one else's. But, even as he sped along the almost deserted highway, he could almost hear what the others would say 'two fucks, that's a long term relationship around here' and a relationship was the last thing he wanted, especially with some kid who wasn't even born until Brian was at least eleven and three quarters. Eventually, Brian's thoughts were bugging him so much, he actually decided to tune in to what the twink was saying, breaking his other, lesser-known, rule of don't make conversation with a fuck. He liked things to be impersonal, it usually stopped any weird stalkers or people getting the wrong impression. Brian supposed maybe he'd made it personal with this particular fuck when he'd taken him to the birth of his son or when he'd let him name him. Or when he'd done those fucking handstands or when he'd taken his virginity. Brian shook his head to clear it of anymore disturbing thoughts that he might have actually encouraged this situation and listened to Justin saying,

"I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Yeah, don't flatter yourself," Brian bit back, turning sharply round a corner. "I want a fuck and you're here. That's all it is."

"I don't believe you, you could have had any of those guys."

"Probably."

"But you didn't … you wanted me."

"Are you complaining? This _is_ what you want, isn't it?"

"I'm not complaining," Justin said quickly.

"Well then … shut the fuck up. Before I take you straight back to liberty avenue and pick up some other twink at Boy Toy."

"You wouldn't do that," Justin smiled and then, seeing the look Brian shot him, he asked, "would you?"

Suddenly, Brian had grabbed the back of Justin's neck and was kissing him furiously, still trying to keep one eye on the road. It was as much to get him to shut up as the quench that painful need that had built up in Brian's gut. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him. He'd wanted guys before, infact he wasn't fussy, he wanted most guys. But with Justin, it was more than that. It was like a craving and Brian almost wanted to vomit with the power of it. Once more fuck, he told himself, as he dominated the twink with his kiss, and then I'll have quenched the need and I'll be free of this kid for good.

Justin didn't know what was going on. He just knew he didn't care as long as Brian kept doing surprising him with things like that.

"Just so you know," Brian said when he'd let Justin go so he could turn all of his attention to the road as he rounded a corner. "This doesn't make me your boyfriend, your partner or anything else you've learnt about in happy homo land, got it? This is still just a fuck."

"Okay," Justin nodded. "Just a fuck," he agreed but he grinned widely.

"What's that look for?"

"Nothing," Justin lied because he couldn't tell the man next to him that he knew he was about to be the only guy that the legendary Brian Kinney had ever fucked twice.

* * *

**Please Review??**  
**Any and all ideas and opinions are welcome...**

**Thanks!! xx**


	3. Episode 104

_Set in Michael's room, after Brian and Justin fuck.  
__(Oh Kinney, three occasions in four episodes. That's pretty extensive for a man still claiming he only fucks people once.)_

*

Brian zipped his jeans back up and sat heavily on Michael's bed. The room hadn't changed since they were kids. Being here now felt like a time warp and it was weird.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, as the kid dressed himself too.

"I told you," Justin smiled, "waiting for you."

"Why?"

"Because I lo-"

"And don't tell me you love me," Brian interrupted, "coz it's a crock of shit. You're seventeen. You don't know what love is."

"I know that I love you."

"What did I just say?" Brian sighed.

Justin closed his eyes, sat down on the bed and looked at the floor. He took a deep breath and said, "My mom knows."

"So?"

"So … what do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do. If your parents are good, if they care about you, if they listen to what you say, then, they'll know. You can't hide that from the people who know you best."

"But…"

"Listen, Justin, you're seventeen. You're too young to be running from your family."

"But they hate me!"

Brian closed his eyes, that was something he could relate to but he had a feeling Justin was overreacting. He didn't know the kid well but he'd already come to the conclusion that Justin was prone to the odd queen out.

"Did they say that?" he asked sternly.

"They didn't have to."

"What exactly did your mom say?"

"I don't know, I ran off."

"Then there's really nothing to talk about, is there?" he said firmly, "except, go home Justin. Go home to your mommy." He stood up and opened the bedroom door and stepped aside for Justin to walk through. "I'm sure Deb'll take you."

* * *

**Sorry it's so short. I've done them for the whole first season now and some episodes are easier (or more obvious) than others. This episode was pretty tough!!**

**Please review!**

**105 will be up tomorrow!**

**Thanks for reading!! xx**


	4. Episode 105

_Set after Brian lets Justin spend the night on his sofa…_

_*_

"Hey! Hey! Get up!"

A sharp slap to his cheek and Justin started awake. Brian was frowning down at him.

"You've got ten minutes until you leave." Brian walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. "I'll give you a lift. Where you headed?"

"School," Justin replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Right, course. School," Brian echoed, taking another sip of coffee as Justin got up and pulled his clothes on. He was moving stiffly and rubbing his neck from time to time. "Did you, er… Did you sleep okay?" Brian asked, as if he gave a shit.

"Yeah," Justin grinned. "It was great."

Brian raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Uh-huh. You want some breakfast?"

"Please," Justin nodded eagerly.

"Well you can have want you want from the kitchen," Brian said. "But be quick. I'm going to start the car and I'm leaving in," he checked his watch, "four minutes." And with that he left the flat.

Justin found a bagel in the breadbin and some orange juice in the fridge door. He downed his drink and chased Brian down the stairs still munching on his bagel. By the time Justin got to the sidewalk, Brian was already indicating but he ignored a few opportunities to pull out into the traffic and Justin grinned to himself as he climbed into the jeep. Sometimes, he thought, Brian was all talk.

* * *

**They will get longer from now on...  
xx**


	5. Episode 106

_Set after Jennifer leaves the GLC art exhibit after seeing Justin and  
__Brian kissing by the piano. (The famous 'ear bite' picture had to come from  
_somewhere, _right?)_

_*_

Brian took Gus from Lindsey and bounced him gently in his arm.

"Hello Sonny boy," he smiled, kissing him gently on the forehead as the baby began to whinge and cry lightly. "I know," Brian said sympathetically. "I'm pissed that your mommy made me come here too."

"Brian!" Lindsey punched him gently on the shoulder. "I did not _make _you come."

"Well, you're a woman so … you wouldn't," he said, handing Gus back to his mother.

"That's disgusting," Lindsey giggled, taking her son and saying in a baby voice, "isn't daddy disgusting?"

"That's it, indoctrinate his tiny mind with 'hate you're old man' speeches before your husband straight out tells him to hate me."

"She doesn't tell him to hate you."

"Really?" Brian was sceptical. "Then Gus must be the only person she doesn't tell. That wo-_man _has a vendetta against me."

"Awww," Lindsey mocked in the same baby voice she'd been using with Gus. "I didn't know you were so sensitive." Then in her normal voice, she added, "if it helps, Gus and I don't hate you."

"Me neither," Justin jumped in, with a slightly desperate smile, which helped massage Brian's ego. The older man smirked at Lindsey and put an arm around Justin's shoulders, who grinned widely, pulling him closer. Lindsey just rolled her eyes and walked away.

"So," Brian said, removing his arm from Justin's shoulders and looking over to the doorway, "where's your mommy gone?"

Justin looked around the room, he couldn't spot her. A strange mix of relief and anger swept over him.

"Who cares?" he shrugged, nonchalant. "She was probably freaking out because she saw that picture I drew of you."

"Mmm, I noticed that picture's getting quite a lot of attention."

Justin just grinned.

"Hey, you two," Daphne smiled, "can I get a photo?"

"Aww, for your little photo album?" / "Sure," were the two responses and Daphne chose to focus on the more positive of the two and point her camera at the 'non-couple'. Justin grinned widely as Brian wrapped an arm across his chest and bit gently on his ear. She took the photo and made some comment about it being a good one. But neither man was really listening. Brian immediately spun Justin away from him and made his way back over to the bar.

"Get me one," Justin called after him. Brian shot the kid a 'don't push it look' but he didn't say he wouldn't and sure enough, he returned a few minutes after with two glasses of wine. He didn't stay to chat though. He must have spotted his next potential trick or something, because he pushed the glass into Justin's hand and walked away without a word.

Justin watched Brian walk over to a cute guy in a suit. He watched Brian step in and whisper in the man's ear. He saw him gesturing and he saw the man nodding. Justin gritted his teeth and turned away. He didn't care that Brian seemed to see him differently to the other tricks, he was just annoyed that there were others. He had this idea of what love was. It was two people, it was a child perhaps and a pet. It was a house with a picket fence. It was a home but he knew if he wanted to be with Brian, he would have to change his ideas. But, if that's what it took then … fine. Justin was _always _up for a challenge.

--

"Okay, which number painting was it, Kinney?"

"Erm, 254," Brian answered, "it's by Justin Taylor."

"The one of you?" The man asked, naturally a little confused.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"There's been a fair amount of interest in that picture. A bit of a bidding war…"

"How much?"

"The highest bid currently stands at $125."

"I'll give you 200," Brian said calmly. "Just make sure it's mine and that _no one _knows about this."

"Hey," the man rose his hands in fake surrender. "Whatever you say?"

--

Justin was with Daphne when he got the call. They were at one of those photo booths that give you your photo's back in an hour. So what if it cost twice as much, he _really _wanted that picture of him and Brian together. It had felt amazing to have Brian just walk up and kiss him in the middle of a crowded room with no promise of a fuck. And it was even more amazing to pose with him for a photo. It had been like they were a real couple … almost.

Justin answered his cell almost immediately and couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You sold one?" he was laughing breathlessly. "Which one? … ah yeah. Some old queen with a crush," Justin chuckled.

"Something like that," the man on the phone had answered.

"So who was it?"

"Ah, they've asked to remain anonymous."

"Oh. Well, thanks for letting me know anyway."

"No problem, Mr Taylor."

Justin had hung up and then leapt up and down with excitement right there in the middle of the shop.

"It's not that good a photo," frowned Daphne, handing the picture of him and Brian over. Christ, Brian looked beautiful in it.

"I wasn't cheering about that," Justin grinned. "We have to go out and celebrate!"

"What? Now?"

"Yeah. Come on. We'll get changed at mine."

"What are we celebrating?"

"I'll tell you on the way. Come on!"

Even in amongst the frantic search for an appropriate outfit and the leaping about that he'd sold a painting and the reluctant allowance of Daphne to tell his mother he'd sold a painting, he'd tucked his new favourite picture safely in his draw. He got it out from time to time, when he needed reminding that Brian cared. Brian had gone to the Gay and Lesbian centre, the place he loathed most in the world, just to make Justin happy. Brian cared, even he wouldn't admit it.


	6. Episode 107

**Dedicated to 'Touch of the Wind' for giving me the idea for the second part of this chapter … hope that this is something like the way you imagined it! (Or at least I hope I didn't ruin the idea for you =D)**

* * *

_Set right before the scene at Brian's loft, where everyone's gone over to check he's  
__not too badly hurt after his car was rammed by Justin's father, Craig…_

*

Brian had never called him before. He'd only taken Justin's number because Justin insisted in case he'd 'left anything at the loft', when he'd spent that uncomfortable night on the sofa. So, as soon as Justin had got the phone call, he'd as good as run to Brian's loft. Okay, there'd been 'the incident' on the front porch with his dad but he was _not_ going to let that would slow him down. He just ran extra fast afterwards and was stumbling through the loft's door much sooner than Brian had expected.

"Christ," he said, an air of aggravated awe to his voice, "you don't hang about, do you?"

"You said you had concussion."

"Minor concussion," Brian corrected him. "That's what the doctor's call a slight bump to the head, it means they can charge you more."

"Well, whatever it is, you should still be lying down. Any activity, strenuous or otherwise, could be counterproductive to your recovery."

"What are you, a fucking doctor?"

"Just lie down," Justin said, virtually pushing Brian on to the sofa. This new forceful Justin took Brian by surprise so much that he didn't even protest. "I'll get you a glass of water," the twink said, walking over to the kitchen.

"I'd rather have a beer."

But Justin returned with water and Brian put it straight on the table without saying thank you or taking a sip. Justin rolled his eyes and moved Brian's feet out of the way so he could sit at the end of the sofa. Brian immediately replaced his feet in the twink's lap.

"Do you want anything else?" Justin asked.

"Yeah," Brian said slowly, looking carefully at the kid, "to know how you got that fat lip."

"Oh." Justin fingered it lightly. "It's nothing. I walked into a door."

"Uh-huh?" Brian sat up a bit and put his hand on the right side of Justin's face, his fingers poking a little roughly around his eye. "Then, how do you explain that black eye you've got coming?"

"I haven't got a black eye," Justin laughed through his nose, pushing Brian's hand away and making him lie back down.

"No," Brian conceded. He closed his eyes and opened them again, very slowly. "But you've been hit … twice."

Justin met those brown eyes and he suddenly had a strong urge to tell Brian everything. He opened his mouth to explain what had happened with Chris Hobbs and then his dad. But just at that moment Lindsey rushed through the door, with Mel trailing behind.

"Brian," the blonde looked relieved when he seemed okay. He sat up a bit to hug her. "I was so worried," she continued. "Hi Justin."

"Hey."

"We left Gus with Dusty and came straight over. So, are you okay?"

"Nothing a bit of bed rest and alcohol can't fix," Brian said with faux-innocent smile. "Get me a beer."

"How about I make you some nice herbal tea?" Lindsey offered, going to the kitchen.

"How about you open a bottle of Jim Beam?" Brian suggested in the same sickly sweet tone but he was pretty sure he was going to end up with tea anyway.

"Hey." Ted and Emmet came through the door next. "How is he?" Ted asked Melanie.

"I've got a mild concussion." Brian said, "I'm not in a coma, I can hear what you're saying."

"Just as cheerful as ever, I see," Ted frowned, leaning over the back of the sofa to inspect the patient. "Have you had ice on that?"

* * *

Brian's so-called friends had pretty much scattered after the episode with Michael. They'd all made bullshit excuses except Melanie who'd spelt it out quite clearly.

"You're an asshole for doing that to Michael. You get a kick out of having him under your control, don't you?"

Brian had said nothing and he'd watched Mel storm out of his loft and then, he was alone except for… "Did you do that on purpose?" … Justin. Of course, that little twot never fucking left him alone, not without serious effort and a crowbar. Quite frankly, Brian didn't have the energy to throw him out. He frowned a little, took a deep breath and asked,

"Do what?"

"Make him abandon his weekend in the country with David."

"I told Mikey not to come back."

"That's not what I asked," Justin said quietly.

"What are you, my fucking conscience? Can't you just leave like the rest of them?" he snapped. He wasn't really angry with Justin but he was angry and he had to take it out on something, Justin was just close; too close in fact. Next thing he knew, Justin was holding him tight, blonde head buried in his chest.

"Er, what are you doing?" Brian demanded, his arms pinned to his side.

"You looked like you could use a hug and," he paused, holding even tighter if that were possible, "I'm sorry."

Brian pushed Justin away at that and walked to the kitchen. Finally, he could get that beer he'd been craving.

"Sorry?"

"That my dad rammed your jeep."

Brian's face screwed up in a combination of disbelief and bemusement.

"You don't know that," he said.

"I do. His car was really beat up today and then he was a really bad mood this morning. He tried to put me under house arrest and then he shouted at me for flaunting myself in front of everyone at school and then he…." Justin stopped abruptly.

"Then he, what?" Brian asked, taking a swig of his beer and leaning on the counter top lazily.

"Nothing." Justin shook his head, sitting down on the sofa, head dipped, staring straight at the faux wood floor.

"Hit you?" Brian asked. Justin stayed resolutely silent and Brian knew he was right. "Well," Brian said slowly, taking another swig of his beer and heading over to sit in the arm chair. "I know all about abusive fathers."

Justin's eyes slid up to look at Brian but his head stayed dipped. It didn't matter though, Brian could read the expression of surprise on the kid's face.

"Yeah," Brian said slowly, "me. My dad was an asshole." He leant over to the coffee table, where the bag of ice was resting. He picked it up and threw it at Justin. "Put that on your eye," he said. "It'll stop any swelling. You can't get laid with a black eye."

Justin gave a forced smile and put the ice on his eye.

"Thanks," he said.

Brian just gave a half nod and took another swig of his drink before closing his eyes and allowing himself to relax completely. Seeing Justin sat on his sofa, nursing a father-inflicted wound had been like a punch to the gut for Brian. It was like he'd been taken back twelve years when he'd done a similar thing on Michael's couch.

He forced his eyelids open and was met with one blue eye and one eye obscured by ice.

"I need a shower," Brian said. He wasn't really talking to Justin, just thinking out loud.

"Oh." Justin nodded an understanding and put the ice down, before making to leave. Brian waited until Justin had reached the door.

"You can stay," he said carefully. And then, seeing the bright, hopeful look in the kid's eyes, he added, "just for an hour or two."

Justin nodded gratefully and sat back down on the sofa. Next second, something cold hit him in the face and it took Justin a few moments to realise it was Brian pressing the ice pack to his eye.

"After all," smirked the older man, "we need to keep the streets safe from Pittsburgh's newest thug. Two fights in two days, Mr Taylor. You wanna be careful, people will start mistaking you for a fucking fist-flinging breeder."

And with that, Brian disappeared into the bathroom. Justin smiled to himself. Brian was letting him stay. Brian never let him stay, at least not without a fight. But maybe there'd been enough fighting recently.


	7. Episode 108

_Set as soon as the end credits roll…_

_*_

Brian scooped up a spoonful of the jambalaya and put it in his mouth. He chewed carefully, very aware that Justin was closely observing his every move. It tasted good. Really good, if you considered this had been a mess all over his kitchen the night before.

"It's not bad," he said. He wouldn't be right to give the kid _too _much encouragement. Justin just smiled. He was so easily pleased.

"It's always better the second day," he smiled.

Brian gave a half nod and put the next spoonful in his mouth. When he looked up, he was aware Justin was gazing at him and Brian knew immediately what he wanted for desert but he was also aware of the candles and the layout of the cutlery and the plants. Suddenly, he was reminded of that one time he'd tried to go on a date. He'd been about twenty and he'd got bored after the first course and ended up fucking the waiter before ditching the guy he'd gone to the restaurant with, letting him pay the bill. But this was different. It was less tense, more enjoyable and the silences were … comfortable. Brian couldn't help smile.

"I, erm, I put my stuff in that bottom draw like you said," Justin said after a relatively long silence.

"Oh. Okay."

"There were a couple of things in there, I didn't know what you wanted me to do with them so I've left them on our bed." Brian raised an eyebrow half-bemused, half-angry at the word 'our'. "Er, your bed," Justin corrected anxiously and Brian smiled a bit.

"This isn't a permanent solution," he reminded the kid slowly. "You're just here until we can find you somewhere more appropriate."

Justin nodded, he understood. He was just grateful to be out of his parent's house and he'd try and drag this arraignment out as long as was physically possible. He'd promised himself he'd end up living with Brian, he'd even told Daphne but he hadn't expected it to happen so quickly.

"But, until then," Brian continued, "you can sleep in the bed. It wouldn't be fair to make you sleep on the couch for a prolonged period of time. But don't go getting the impression that we're some couple, okay? Because we're not!"

"Okay," Justin nodded again and popped a spoonful of food into his mouth to stop him grinning too much.

"I'm just doing you a favour as a … passing acquaintance," Brian continued. Justin couldn't help smile at the other man's reluctance to even call him a friend. "And," Brian added seriously, "you can pay me back."

"I'd be happy to," the kid reassured him with a knowing smile, which assured Brian that Justin knew exactly what Brian would be expecting as payment.

Brian took his last spoonful of jambalaya and announced he needed a piss and left the table. As he walked through his bedroom to get to the bathroom, he saw the contents of his draw laid neatly on the bed. One day, he smiled, Justin would make an excellent wife for someone. There was an old sock. A couple of pens and an old mobile that had become obsolete about nine months ago. There were some used plane tickets and part of an ad campaign that he'd abandoned a while back. But Brian hardly noticed any of that because there, in the middle of all the other items, was a sketched picture in a frame. The one of Brian that Justin had drawn. The one that Brian had bought from the art showing at the GLC.

Brian swore sharply under his breath. He heard Justin clattering plates noisily as he tidied up from dinner. Brian knew he could put this picture in a box and Justin would never mention it again or Brian could bring it up and tell the kid that he'd been thinking about him, that he didn't want other people to see him the way Justin did. But emotionally, Brian Kinney was a coward, so he picked up the photo and the rest of the objects and put them in a box, which he tucked at the back of his closet. Some things are better left without discussion.


	8. Episode 109

_Set when Brian gets back from the hospital after being there to be with Gus…_

_*_

Brian got back to the loft fairly late that night and immediately poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels. He took a sip and went to relax on the sofa, letting out a long relieved breath. He must have been holding that since he'd received the call from Lindsey to say that Gus had been rushed to hospital.

For the first time in his life, Brian Kinney had felt completely helpless. He'd never faced a problem he couldn't throw money at before but all the money in the world couldn't have stopped the panic in Lindsey's voice or the adrenaline that had pulsated through his veins as he wondered what was happening to his son. He'd felt like he was going to vomit and he was pretty sure he'd never been so scared in his life. He hadn't even known it was possible to feel like that, not that he'd let anyone know of course except maybe …. Well, Justin couldn't have missed how terrified he'd been on the phone but he was pretty sure the kid would know better than to bring it up. He took another sip of whiskey and looked over at the bedroom, the lights were all off. Justin was probably asleep.

"Brian?" Or not.

"Yeah," Brian answered softly. He heard a shuffling of sheets as Justin climbed awkwardly out from the covers and the thud, thud, thud as the kid padded over to him. Justin was wearing his boxers with a baggy, old, grey t-shirt and he was ferociously attacking his thumbnail with his teeth.

"Is Gus okay?" he asked anxiously.

"He's fine," Brian answered. "What are you still doing up?"

"I'm _always _up," Justin grinned weakly, sitting on the sofa next to the older man. Then he added, with brutal honesty, "and I was worried sick about Gus. You could have called to let me know he was okay."

"I didn't think you'd give a shit." Brian knew that was harsh as soon as he said it. He'd seen Justin when he was with Gus, it was obvious he loved him like a brother or, worryingly, like a son.

"Well, I do. I care about him."

Brian said nothing for a moment or two, he just let the silence hang in the air as he pushed his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully.

"And it's obvious you do too," Justin continued steadily. "I saw the way you were on the phone. You were petrified."

Brian looked at the twink next to him. Petrified? Justin did like to blow things out of all proportion.

"I was concerned," he replied quietly, fingering his glass gently before looking up at the twink to say, "go to bed, Justin. You've got work in the morning."

"But I'm not tired," the younger man protested.

"Well, I'm not surprised, I saw the half drunk cup of coffee in the kitchen. You're not supposed to have caffeine before trying to sleep."

"But I was worried about Gus, I didn't wanna sleep without knowing if he was okay. You rushed out of here like he might be dying and you wouldn't let me come with you."

"You had homework to do. Besides, they wouldn't have let you in anyway. You'd have had to sit out in the corridor with Melanie and the rest of the non-blood-related relatives."

Justin couldn't help grin at the implication, intentional or not, that Justin and Gus were related.

"Melanie wasn't allowed in?"

"No, and I think the munchers are gonna want me to sign Gus over to her now." He paused for a moment before taking another sip of his drink. The brown liquid barely burnt his throat anymore. He hardly even registered it as anything other than a drink with a trick to make you forget. "Shit," he said because everything was shit and because he didn't understand how he'd fallen so hard and so fast for his son and because he wasn't even able to concentrate on his own thoughts with that fucking kid sat next to him peering at him with some happy-ever-after, naively idealistic love in his eyes. Brian sighed. He should have never let the kid move in, permanently or not. His life was completely out of control and it was all because of his two kids and the way they'd ripped him up and made him feel things he'd never felt before.

"They can't just demand you give him up," Justin was protesting. "He's _your_ son. It's not fair! Maybe you could…."

"He's _their_ son," Brian interrupted, "I just provided a means." He paused a second and then looked at Justin as though seeing him for the first time, "what are you still doing here?"

Justin sighed and got to his feet, mumbling, "you don't fool me. I know you care about Gus … and me," before disappearing into the bedroom.

Brian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. This night had taken a lot out him emotionally, especially as, where emotions were involved, Brian Kinney didn't have much to give. He felt like he'd been torn open and left bleeding. He wanted a drink, so he downed the rest of the liquid, let out a satisfied 'ahh', putting the glass back on the table. It took him a minute or two to decide that the drink wasn't enough. What he really needed was a good fuck. He got up and grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his chair. He'd just go to the baths, burying himself him some muscle queen and leave his life behind for a few blissful moments; meaningless, efficient fucking. Even at the lowest points of his life, it was something he could always rely on to give him a release, a moment of perfect, escapist ecstasy.

As he reached his front door, his eyes slid to the blonde lying in his bed. The twink was curled up but it was clear he wasn't sleeping or even close to sleep. The blue light was falling on his face, his hair was sticking out at angles and his eyelids were barely closed. He was a debauched kind of beautiful. Slowly, Brian slid his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. Perhaps he didn't need to go to the baths after all. It seemed he had everything he needed tonight already in his bed. He crept in beside Justin and kissed his neck experimentally. It wasn't long before Justin was begging him to fuck him.

Sometimes, Brian thought, it was good to have your own customised twink living with you.


	9. Episode 110

_Set after Brian confronts (amongst other things) Justin in the hotel room in  
__New York. They're back at the place Brian and the other's arranged to meet._

_*_

"What are we doing here?" Justin asked.

"Waiting for the others," Brian checked his watch. "They should have been here ten minutes ago."

"The others?"

"Debbie sent us out as like a fucking search party," Brian explained, leaning against the closest building.

"Debbie?" Justin asked. He knew he was going to be in trouble if Debbie had found out he'd run away. He'd hoped that the only person who'd know would be Brian but it seemed the whole goddamn family had been told.

"Yeah, if it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be here. Apparently you're like a 'son to her'," Brian mocked and then his face smoothed out and he smirked, as an idea came to him. "I bet she'd let you live in Michael's old room," he thought aloud and he couldn't stop a grin invading his face as he thought about how much that would annoy Michael.

"Live at Debbie's?" Justin asked unenthusiastically, swinging his duffle bag from one shoulder to the other.

"Better than living on the street," Brian shrugged. They waited a few more minutes in silence but from the way he kept sighing and checking the time, it was obvious Brian was getting more and more fed-up by the second.

"I'm cold," Justin moaned.

"Don't be such a princess," Brian snapped but he didn't stop Justin from squeezing up close to him, to help share body heat. And then of course, it was just more comfortable for Brian to put his arm around the kid. Justin smiled and placed his head tentatively on Brian's shoulder. Sometimes, Brian would bite his head off for doing things like this, sometimes, he just let him get on with it and this appeared to be one of those times. Suddenly, Justin found himself being thrown off and he heard Brian's voice angrily demanding,

"Where the hell have you three been?"

"We went to this bar," Michael beamed, "you should have seen it, it was just like…"

"Yeah, I don't care," Brian cut in. "Let's just get out of here," he turned back to see Emmett smothering the blonde twink with relieved hugs and thankful kisses, "now!"

Justin crushed himself between Emmett and Ted in the back seat. It was a tight and somewhat uncomfortable fit, not that he'd of complained. Not when Ted elbowed him in the ribs as he tried to fasten his seatbelt, not when Emmet, in a bout of overexcitement, thumped him in the face with a flailing arm during a story about his hometown or when the flamboyant man was offering him food, despite him refusing just seconds before.

"You hungry, baby?" Emmet asked offering the kid a half-eaten, family size bag of chips.

"Erm, no … thanks," he smiled politely.

"Justin won't need to eat for at least a week," Brian said through gritted teeth, "he ordered room service … lot's of it."

"Is that what you did?" Michael smirked cruelly, "sat in your room eating room service waiting for us to come and rescue you?"

"No. Little Justin went out to the clubs," Brian said, putting his foot down and racing onto the highway. "Danced until," he eyed Justin in the mirror, "did you say _six _in the morning?"

Justin nodded. "It was amazing," he lied. "The guys were amazing."

Brian drew his lips into his mouth to stop him from smirking.

"You've taught him well Brian," Ted said. "No matter what the situation, get out to the clubs and check out the guys."

"Mmm," Brian nodded, unable to stop the smirk any longer as he caught Justin's eye in the mirror. Justin smiled back. Just as Michael was picking up on the subtle exchange between the two, Brian looked away and continued, "but don't think you're not gonna pay me back every cent. You can get a fucking job as soon as we get back to Pittsburgh."

"But…" Justin began to protest.

"Unless, you've got some money stowed away in some Swiss bank account?"

"No," Justin shook his head miserably.

"Right, then get a job. You owe me about a hundred dollars."

Michael spluttered but Brian shot him a look so venomous it stunned Michael into silence.

It wasn't until Brian had dropped Emmett and Ted off at home and had pulled up outside Debbie's house that Michael finally spoke his mind. Justin was managing to fuck up getting his bag out of the trunk so Michael took the few moments alone with his friend to say,

"A hundred dollars?!"

"What?" Brian shrugged with faux-confusion.

"Well, I doubt that even covered the cost of the hotel ."

Brian shrugged again, "he must have got it on sale."

"I heard him talking about the four rooms he had, there was no way he got that place cheap and didn't you say he flew first class _and_ he had room service. That must have cost at least $500."

"Well, it didn't," Brian snapped. Then calmly, he added, "so, give it a rest Mikey."

"Buy why are you doing this? Why are you helping him? He should be in prison but you're just letting him get away with it."

"He's not _getting away _with anything. He's paying me back."

"Not enough!" Michael exclaimed, as Brian rang Debbie's doorbell. She opened it almost immediately. She'd been a nervous wreck ever since she'd heard of Justin's disappearance. She'd been on the phone to Michael every five minutes asking how it was going.

"Michael, Brian." she peered around them anxiously. "Where is he? Is he hurt?"

"He's right over there," Michael sulked. As they all looked over to the twink who managed to pull his bag free and send it crashing into the jeep hard.

"Hey, watch it asshole," Brian scowled.

"Sorry," Justin gave a pathetic smile.

"Oh Sunshine," Debbie rushed over to him and enveloped him in a lung-crushing hug. "Thank God you're okay," she breathed out thankfully. "And next time this asshole," she shot Brian an evil look, "mistreats you, you come straight here, you got it?" Justin nodded awkwardly as his face pressed right against her bosom.

"Well, actually …" Brian grinned. "We were wondering what you'd think about letting Justin live here … full time."

"What the fuck!?" Michael shouted.

"Aww, that's a fantastic idea," Debbie beamed, ushering the three boys into her house.

"It is?" Michael was outraged as his mother forced him through the door.


	10. Episode 111

_Set immediately after Michael's brilliantly staged or disastrous (depending on  
__who you are and how you look at the world) 30__th__ Birthday Party._

_*_

The loft was a tip. There were glasses everywhere, bits of food trampled into the floor, some of the furniture had had things spilt all over it, the faucet had been broken so badly that the knob for the hot water had come off completely. The fridge had been ransacked, the decorations shredded and the floor had puddles of various beverages all over it. Justin closed the door behind the last guest and took in the mess. With a sigh, he started to pick up some of the fallen grapes and tidy up some of the abandoned bottles, as Brian paid the dancers and Captain Astro for their services before virtually throwing them out of his flat. As soon as they'd gone, he walked purposefully over to the sofa and collapsed on it.

"You okay?" Justin asked tentatively.

"I've just spent a mint on a party that has ruined my home, not to mention my bank balance and my relationship with all my friends and Michael. I'm just _dazzling_," Brian scorned, pulling a joint from a container in his jeans pocket and lighting it carefully. He took a long drag and held it in his lungs for ages before exhaling. He needed to escape.

Justin chewed his lip nervously before deciding perhaps silence would be the best course of action in this situation. He carried on tidying up bits and pieces until Brian told him to stop.

"It's okay, I don't mind." Justin said.

"The cleaning lady will do it," he insisted, digging the heal of his palm into his eye and rubbing. "Just, go take a shower, it'll sober you up a bit."

"I'm not drunk."

"Justin, you can barely stand up straight and so far, all you've done is cause more of a mess with your _tidying._" He craned his neck up so he could see the kid properly, his eyes were glassy and not altogether focused, poisoned with glasses and glasses worth of margarita's. He allowed his head to fall back to the sofa and said, "remind me never to let you drink with Melanie. Not that she'll ever speak to me again." And, after a pause, "maybe one good thing _did _come out of this party." He took another long drag from his joint, "and of course the fact Michael's back with the doc. In fact, it was perfectly executed plan and everyone got what they wanted."

He held the joint high above his head and closed one eye so that he could place the joint perfectly in line with the light on the ceiling for no other reason that 'he wanted to'. Then he added so quietly, his words heavy with hurt, "except me."

"What was the plan?" Justin asked, using the breakfast bar to steady himself as he wobbled dangerously.

"I thought you were in the shower," Brian frowned.

"I'm going now," Justin promised. "I just wanna know the plan."

Brian seemed to consider telling Justin exactly what had happened, starting with Debbie's visit or maybe it started with Michael and David's break up or maybe it _really _started all those years ago in Michael's bedroom when they were both fifteen. Maybe if he'd never starting to give Michael that hand job, Michael wouldn't have become so infatuated with him for so long. Brian sighed, being Michael's idol had been a lot to bear, he'd taken the blame for things Michael did just because he still was holding onto this deluded fantasy that one day Brian would become the kind of man that settled down and did boyfriends and didn't fuck about but of course that day would never come and Michael was becoming one of those loveless people you hear about who end up in a rundown house with fifty cats. But the worst thing about it was it appeared to be happening all over again with Justin, Michael two. Except that was different somehow, maybe because he'd actually fucked this kid.

"What's the point," he said eventually to no one in particular. "No one else understood it either, they didn't realise I'd given Mikey exactly what they all say he needs but they're wrong. If they actually looked, they'd see that Michael's not really happy with the doc. They'd see that the doc's fucking controlling him turning him into some kind of Stepford fag. But, as always, they just blame me and continue their guilt free existence with fucking blinkers on." He took another drag and blew the smoke out in rings, over fifteen years of smoking had come in handy for little party tricks like that.

"Wait, you don't think Michael's happy?"

Shit. "What are you still doing here?" Brian groaned. He hadn't meant for anyone to hear what he was saying. It was supposed to be a stream of angry rambling from an angry, lonely, but not old, man.

"I was waiting for you to finish so I could ask you what should I do with this."

"I thought I told you to stop tidying."

"Just this one last thing," Justin reassured him, as Brian took another hit.

"What is it?" he asked in a cloud of smoke.

"The comic you bought Michael. Shall I just chuck it?"

"You can't do that, it's not yours."

"But Michael's not gonna want it now."

"I don't care. It's still his. He can decide what he wants to do with it."

"But he _decided _to leave it here."

"So it can stay here until he decides what to do with it next," Brian insisted. "Why aren't you in the shower?" he snapped again.

"Alright, alright. I'm going."

Justin clearly didn't make it to the shower. Brian heard him collapse face first onto his bed and he sighed. He almost thought about kicking him out but what did it matter really. He knew there was no fucking way he was gonna be getting any sleep tonight anyway. He finished off his joint and then pushed himself to his feet. He poured himself a cocktail of the closest bottles and he began to sip at the strange concoction. It tasted like cat piss but it was strong, really strong so he just kept drinking. Eventually, he passed out on the sofa, a cigarette butt in one hand and a bottle of … something in the other.

He was wide awake and restless less that two hours later but, by that time it was seven o' clock so he dragged himself to his feet, took another swig from the bottle in his hand and went to take a shower. By the time he'd got out of the shower, Debbie had packed up all Michael's stuff. Then she'd said thank you and left, taking Sunshine with her. Didn't she realise a thank you, sincere or not, wasn't going to make up for the fact she'd forced Brian to give up his best friend and then taken his only remaining ally too. Not that the kid had left without promising to come back later but he was always back. Nothing Brian did seemed to get rid of him. For the first time in his life, Brian was experiencing what it was like to be love unconditionally and he found it incredibly strange.

* * *

When Justin did return a couple of hours later, Brian ignored the knocking at his door. He was sprawled out on his floor, still wearing just a pair of black joggers, still smoking, still drinking, still miserable. He'd picked up the Captain Astro Issue and opened it, despite his own belief it was still Michael's, it had been obvious from the way Debbie had said goodbye it was clear Michael wouldn't be accepting his gift anytime soon. It seemed Brian and Mikey's excellent adventure really was all over after fifteen years of perpetual reruns about unrequited love and dead-end narratives. It was the fairy tale that hadn't followed tradition. The princess had never got his prince, so he'd settled for a knight. The prince had turned into a beast, locked up in his tower and friendless. The spell had been broken and the friendship had been snapped like an aged twig that had clung on to the friendship tree for much longer than it should have.


	11. Episode 112

_Set a few hours after the episode ends. Brian and Michael have gone home after dancing together in Babylon._

_*_

Justin's mobile was ringing for a while before he located it. He hadn't exactly been asleep but he wasn't a hundred percent awake either and it seemed to take him an age to work out the racket was coming from his school bag and it didn't help that Debbie was yelling at him from her own room to "shut that damned cell off."

He'd almost forgotten how thin the walls of this old house were.

"Sorry Deb," he called back, as he pulled the phone free from it's stationary prison. "Hello," he said down the receiver.

"Hey."

Justin grinned widely, "Brian?" He couldn't hide the surprise. Brian Kinney hardly ever rang anyone, if it wasn't Michael to tell him they were going out.

"No, it's the Queen of England," came the sarcastic response.

"How's it going, your majesty?" Justin smiled.

"Just wondered what you were doing."

"What?" Justin asked in amazement, as he settled back into the pillows on his bed.

"What. Are. You. doing?" Brian repeated _very _slowly.

"Erm … it's two in the morning," Justin frowned, rubbing his eyes wearily, "I'm in bed."

"Michael's bed," Brian said and Justin could almost see him smirking. It was obvious Brian was getting some kind of sick thrill from storing his personal twink in Mikey's old bedroom.

"So why are you ringing?" Justin asked, "You've never rung me before. You must _really_ miss Michael."

"Actually, we've worked it out."

"Really?" Justin grinned. His plan must have worked.

"Yeah, he turned up at Babylon saying he was ready to forgive me."

"Really?" Justin repeated, the bemused tone obvious in his voice.

"He says you paid him a visit, told him he should give me a chance."

"You were miserable," Justin said, coyly. "You know I'd do anything to make you happy."

"Mm, well … thanks," he mumbled.

"Did you just say thanks? Brian? … Brian?" Justin looked at the screen on his phone. Brian had hung up. He smiled to himself. Had Brian Kinney just called him to thank him? Had the world gone completely mad? He didn't bother ringing back, he knew Brian wouldn't answer. So, instead, he sent a text. All it said was, 'don't mention it … and neither will I'.

--

Brian picked up his phone as it bleeped incessantly on the counter top. He opened it up, read the message and couldn't help but smile.

"Who was that?" asked the random trick he'd brought back tonight. This muscle queen had been in the bathroom for ages, which had given Brian plenty of time to call Justin, but now the bathroom trip had seemed pointless, the guy was still dressed and he didn't look much more impressive than when he'd gone in there. If anything had been stolen … but no, maybe this man was even more vain that Brian, if that were possible. So Brian didn't leap to improbable conclusions. Instead, he just snapped,

"none of your fucking business," and "why are you still wearing clothes?"

The trick grinned and shed his clothes in seconds. Brian looked him up and down slowly, his eyes roaming and judging every muscle, every curve from every angle.

"Not bad," Brian smirked. "Not bad."


	12. Episode 113

I** really didn't have much to work with in this episode. Happy to rewrite if anyone thinks of anything better …**

* * *

_Set immediately before and up to the time Brian kicks Justin out of his flat as Kip arrives to  
discuss business, yeah right! __(Also, Brian fucks Kip more than once too, and he mentions  
a guy he was fucking for a while who wore diapers; not that it matters we all know Justin's special!!)_

_*_

Work, work, work. Brian sighed and ran a hand down his face. He had to finish before Kip arrived, he'd promised he'd go through the ideas but right now he'd rather be doing anything else. He'd worked all day, he wanted to relax. Just then the buzzer of his flat went. He got up, thinking it would be Kip, or course the asshole would be early. He walked over to the panel and pushed a button.

"Yeah."

"Hey, it's …"

"Come on up," Brian sighed, cutting off the voice before hitting the unlock button and going back to his work. He'd almost forgotten that his personal stalker would be around at some point. Brian did attempt to do a bit more work but he just listened to the whirring of the elevator and the sliding of the door and then Justin appeared.

"Hey," he grinned.

"Why did you ring the bell? You know the combination, don't you? And you've got a key."

"Well, yeah, but Debbie said that Michael told her that you..."

"Do they not have their own lives to discuss."

"...had a lot of work on at the moment, so I thought I'd make sure I wasn't getting in the way."

"You're always getting in the way," Brian frowned.

"Mm," Justin hummed, going to the kitchen and filling a glass with orange juice. "Can I have a drink?" he asked as an after thought, already taking his first sip.

"No," Brian answered bluntly, chewing his pen and making the easy changes to the advert ahead of him.

"So, what're you doing?"

"Work."

"When's it gotta be done by?"

Brian took in a long breath, "why?"

"Well, you look like you've been working really hard. And I need a break from Debbie's house so I thought _you _could take me dancing."

"And _why _would I wanna do that?" Brian asked, not looking up from his work and circling a few more things, though he always found it increasingly difficult to concentrate when the blonde twink was around.

"Because we're both young, hot and like dancing," Justin said hopefully.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Brian smirked. Then added seriously, "but not tonight. I've got plans."

"So. It'll be good, the thumpa, thumpa of the night club. Hot guys, grinding bodies. Me and you."

"Just me and you, that sounds like a date."

"Don't think of it as a date," Justin urged.

"How long have you known me?" Brian asked, "I don't do dates."

"It's not a date," Justin insisted, "I just wanna know if you wanna go to B abylon with me."


	13. Episode 114

_Set the morning after the end of the episode._

_*_

Justin rubbed his eyes as the light hit him square in the face. The phone was ringing but the sound was foggy and far away. He felt the bed dip next to him, he felt Brian shuffling and finally he heard Brian say 'hello' but the rest of the half conversation was lost in the bleary state of his mind. Well, they had been up fucking till 7am and he'd been asleep for what, three hours top?

"Hey, Justin," he heard Brian's voice, louder and clearer accompanied by a sharp slap to the backside. "Get up, it's noon." Okay then, five hours sleep but he was still shattered. "And Happy Birthday," Brian muttered, like it was an afterthought and not a particularly pleasant one.

"Oh, thanks," Justin smiled sleepily. He yawned and then said, "I think Deb's throwing a little party tonight, you gonna come?"

"I suppose it could be the perfect opportunity to celebrate that Kip dropped the suit against me."

"Mmm," Justin agreed. Then he said, "I need a shower."

Just as he reached the door to the bathroom he heard Brian say,

"were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Justin asked and if he were a cartoon, a halo would have appeared above his head to match the look he gave.

"That you blackmailed Kip Thomas into dropping the law suit."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Justin said before disappearing into the bathroom. Brian watched the door shut and smiled to himself. He couldn't believe Justin had done that, for him. No one had ever done the guardian angel thing for him before. Usually, it was Brian playing the anonymous hero but now Justin had taken on the role and he would have remained anonymous if Thomas' lawyer hadn't decided to ring Brian to tell him that blackmail was illegal and that he was a lucky son of a bitch. But then, Brian had always known that.

He got slowly to his feet and went to join Justin in the shower. It was time to thank the young twink properly and, for the first time since they'd met, this would be legal. Brian wondered for a moment as he slammed Justin face first into the glass and positioned himself behind him, whether it would take the thrill out of it. It didn't. It was still a thrill and Brian had a horrible feeling that it always would be.

**--**

Brian had known he was going to Justin's stupid birthday dinner all day but he still turned up late and acted like he had a million and one other things he'd rather be doing.

"Did you get him anything?" Lindsey whispered in his ear, when they'd begun to give the gifts.

"I asked him what he what he wanted and I gave it to him," he smirked, "several times. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need another beer. Family celebrations make me nauseous."

"Asshole," Lindsey hissed after him.

Brian walked over to the fridge opened a beer and began to drink it quickly. The more alcohol the better. He picked idly at the buffet Debbie had provided on the dining table. He was still trying to decide what was least likely to kill him, when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder.

"Mel told us the law suit got dropped." Brian turned to see Michael smiling up at him. "I'm really happy for you."

"Mm," Brian nodded, taking a long swig of his beer. "Thanks for all your help, by the way," he said with mock sweetness.

"What?" Michael looked understandably confused.

"Well, lets face it Mikey, you didn't exactly stick your neck out for me."

"I would have," he insisted, "if there was anything I could have done but you fucked an employee, you screwed yourself over."

"Did I say that Harriet Jermyn got told the whole school that you looked up her skirt?"

"Well, no," Michael squirmed.

"No," Brian smiled bitterly. "I told everyone that Harriet Jermyn was a compulsive liar."

"They only believed you because you pulled her wig off!" Michael raised his voice.

"She told me about her weird hair growth problem and trusted me with the wig secret. But I abandoned that trust and I showed the school what she really looked like." He smiled as the memory of de-wigging Harriet Jermyn played in his head. Then he looked at Michael, put a hand on his shoulder and said calmly, "I did that for you Mikey. But you didn't even try." He didn't sound angry or annoyed, more like he was stating a little known fact.

"How could I have helped?" Michael demanded.

"I don't know," Brian shrugged, picking up a sandwich and studying it carefully before putting it back on the plate with a face that looked like he'd never touched anything quiet so disgusting in his life. Then, he said quite quietly and offhandedly, "why don't you ask Justin."

"Justin?"

"Well, he's the only reason I've still got a job."

"Justin?" Michael repeated, half laughing. "What did he do? He's just a kid."

Brian laughed softly through his nose and took a swig of his beer. He took the bottle away from his lips and looked carefully at his young lover, or whatever he was, as he opened a present from Debbie. It was some horribly tacky ornament she'd had stored away in the attic since the 60's. It was hideous, no one would ever want it but all credit to the kid, he gave an Oscar winning performance as he said how much he loved it. His smile would have even looked genuine if Brian hadn't memorised every facial expression the kid had. Not that he'd wanted to but when someone hangs around you that much you don't really have much choice.

Finally, Brian turned to Michael, leant forward and whispered in his ear, "he acted like more of a man than you did," before going outside and lighting a joint.

Brian hadn't expected it to take quite so long for Michael to crack and come outside to apologise and when he did Brian forgave him almost immediately because he wasn't surprised Michael hadn't done anything. He'd never really expected him too. He'd just been surprised that Justin _had _done something. Perhaps, subconsciously, Brian had just wanted to shout to the world, or at least to Michael, how much Justin loved him.

Brian had waited five minutes before allowing Michael to think he'd talked him round and they went back inside fully reinstated as best friends.

"Hey," Justin bounded over to them. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing," Brian smirked, putting his arm over Michael's shoulders and pulling him close. "Is that new?" he asked, pulling at the French connection t-shirt the kid was wearing, which read 'Guaranteed FCUK'.

"Yeah," he beamed, "Emmett bought it for me. Do you like it?"

Brian rolled his tongue down the inside of his cheek. "Is it factual?" he smirked.

"Can be, depends who's reading it."

"Uh-huh," Brian grinned, pinching the front of the t-shirt and pulling Justin towards him so he could kiss him.

"Wait," Justin said when he was inches away, "my mum's here."

"So?"

"So…" Justin shrugged, and angled to kiss the older man. Brian did take a quick look over Justin's shoulders to see whether Jennifer was going to explode and then he heard Justin whisper, "it's okay. Like I said, she doesn't completely hate you."

Brian smirked and kissed Justin deeply.

Jennifer did turn away but only because she always felt like she was somehow intruding when she saw Brian being affectionate towards her son as though it were somehow private. And, although she'd heard rumours and stories of Brian Kinney had how he fucked in public, she couldn't help feel that the intensity between him and her son was too strong for other people's eyes or at least hers. She still had reservations about the relationship or the non-relationship or whatever they _weren't _defining themselves as this week but she knew that if Brian made her son happy and if he didn't hurt him, then she'd have to keep quiet about any of doubts she might have. At least for now.


	14. Episode 115

_Set during and after the fight between Melanie and Brian,  
__after she finds Justin alone at the loft looking after Gus.  
__Brian's being a crap father - uh oh! - And Melanie's  
__being a pain in the arse. [Am I the only one that finds  
__her constantly annoying? (But then I know most people  
__don't like Lindsey and I'm a fan of her so … each to  
__their own I guess…)]  
_

_*_

"I'm his father," Brian shouted in Melanie's face. "Who are you?"

Melanie was silent for a moment, she kissed Gus gently on the temple.

"I may be no one," she said slowly, "but at least I love him enough to know that his needs come before mine. Which is more than can be said for you."

Brian chewed his cheek and threw the whip he'd been carrying carelessly to the sofa.

"Fine," he groaned, chucking the keys to his jeep in her general direction. "Fucking take him." Then he stomped to his room to collapse on his bed.

He heard a low exchanging of voices that sounded like Justin apologizing for the millionth time and then the sliding of his front door and the whirring of the elevator.

"Shit," he breathed into his pillow and thumped the bed to the right of him hard with his fist.

"I can't believe you just let her walk away with him like that." Brilliant, the fucking voice of reason was here to guide his way. There were times when Brian believed Justin saw his role in the older man's life as something akin to Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio. Brian still had his head buried in his pillow. He'd had a stressful day and a shit night, he just wanted it all to disappear.

"Look, it was best for Gus," he said eventually. "She was right, I shouldn't have abandoned him."

There was a pause for a moment and Brian wondered if Justin had left him alone. But then;

"I'm sorry," the kid said shakily. It was obvious the thought of almost scolding Gus had really unsettled him. Brian took a long, steady breath and moved around slowly to look at Justin.

"It wasn't your fault," Brian sighed. "It was mine. I shouldn't have left him with you. You're a fucking kid, for Christ's sake!"

"I'm not a kid," Justin protested.

"Look, I'm sorry Justin, but you are," Brian frowned. "You're not old enough to be trusted with a baby."

"For what it's worth. I think you're entitled to a few hours off," the kid said steadily. "And Gus was fine until then."

"I know he was," Brian said almost kindly, before rolling back onto his stomach and saying something so muffled by the pillow, Justin only got the final bit,

"… shit night. So, fuck off."

"What was wrong with the leather ball?" Justin asked.

Brian lifted his head just long enough to say, "didn't you hear me say fuck off?"

"Must have missed that bit, what happened at the leather ball for it to be shit?"

"Some guy wouldn't leave me alone. He'd have practically fucking raped me if I hadn't come back here."

"Sounds like you've had a rough night," Justin whispered. Brian felt the bed dip and move as Justin crawled towards him. Brian allowed his hand to be lifted from his side and replaced over Justin's crotch.

"Need a release?" was the question accompanying the gesture. Brian opened the one eye that wasn't being crushed by his pillow and looked up to see Justin's face, bright and flushed.

"Feels like you do," Brian said steadily as he unzipped Justin's fly. The younger man grinned to himself. Sometimes, Brian Kinney was so easy.


	15. Episode 116

_Set after the episode._

_*_

"Baby, let me buy you a drink," Emmett said as Justin entered Woody's. "You absolutely deserve it."

Justin smiled a bit, though he couldn't help feel Brian's glare slicing him deep.

"Yeah, if I'd had a chance to get back at my bullies, I'd have taken it," Ted agreed.

"Though I suppose it helps to have your own personal body guard when taking them on," Emmett laughed, touching Brian's shoulder or at least he would have if the brunette hadn't jerked away sharply, scowling, "get off me, Honeycutt," before storming to the toilets.

"What's eating him?" Emmett asked Justin. The kid shrugged a bit,

"I think he'd pissed at me."

"At you, why baby?"

"I think he thinks I've gotten myself in even more trouble."

"Well don't let him rain on your pride parade," Emmett virtually sang, pushing a drink into Justin's hand and proposing a toast. "To Justin," he smiled, "and to standing up to the bullies and homophobes of this world."

Ted raised his glass and the three downed their drinks.

They'd long since changed the topic of conversation by the time Brian returned from the toilets. He sat down at the bar and ordered himself a double whiskey and then, after being begged incessantly, he ordered another one for Justin. They were locked deep in conversation about some guy across the bar's dodgy hair-do, when Justin overheard Emmett and Ted's own hushed words.

"But did you see him. He looked like he'd have flattened that kid if he touched Justin again."

"Well, who's to say he wouldn't have if Justin hadn't pulled him back."

"Oh Honey, he _definitely_ squared up to him. I saw enough fights back home in Hazlehurst, Mississippi to know what one looks like and Brian looked like a man ready to fight."

"I just can't … I mean, out of the four of us, I always thought Brian would be most likely to throw a punch if pushed to it but…."

"I know what you mean, sweetie. I'd never expect him to throw a punch protecting someone else."

"Not even Justin?"

The kid almost felt Brian's friends looking at him carefully, studying him and Justin couldn't help smile a bit. They'd finally catching a glimpse of the Brian Justin had seen all along. The one that let him stay in his loft, even though it was inconvenient. The one that made him put ice on his face after his dad beat him up. The one who looked out for him, even when he pretended he didn't. That was Justin's Brian and most of the time, he stayed hidden from everyone else.

"What are you smiling at?" scorned Brian.

"Nothing," Justin grinned even wider.

Brian frowned and looked over his shoulder asking,

"Have you seen something funny? Wait," he turned back, "have you seen fat Marv's alter ego Martina? That always makes me laugh too."

"No," Justin said, shaking his head and then as Brian's words sunk in he admitted, "though now I kinda wish I had seen that."

"It's certainly an experience," Brian conceded and when he looked at Justin again, the kid was shooting him gooey stairs with big, naïve and hopeful eyes. "What?" The older man demanded.

"Let's go back to yours."

Brian drew his lips into his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

"Please," the twink begged.

--

Justin looked to his left. Brian looked great when he was driving. Brian looked great when he did everything but he looked especially great when he was driving.

"Will you stop staring at me, it's off-putting," Brian said steadily, pointlessly checking the mirror even though he knew they weren't any cars around.

"Sorry," Justin blushed and looked down at his own lap. "It's just…." He stopped and twiddled his thumbs. This had been playing on his mind ever since he'd over heard Ted and Emmett.

"What?" Brian snapped. He hated it when people didn't finish their own sentences almost as much as he hated it when they let other people finish sentences for them.

"Were you gonna beat Chris Hobbs up?"

Justin watched as Brian's eyebrows pulled into a frown. It was clear the older man had _not_ been expecting that.

"What?" Brian asked again, as though he couldn't even remember the incident outside Woody's.

"You squared up to him coz he pushed me."

"So?"

"So, you care about me."

Brian stayed resolutely muted and Justin grinned at the silent confirmation.

"I knew it," he beamed.

"Will you shut the fuck up? Or I'll take you back to Deb's."

"Fine, fine. Just … one question."

Brian turned to look at Justin and, seeing the excited look in the twink's eyes, he ignored his better judgement and nodded.

"If he'd have hit me, would you have hit him back?"

Brian ignored the question for a moment and checked all three of his mirrors again, although there were still no other cars on the road. Well, there wouldn't be at this time of night. He turned a corner, looked over to Justin and then back to the road, sighed heavily and finally answered,

"Yeah."

Justin bounced up in his seat a bit and grinned like Brian had never seen him before. He looked like nothing had ever made him happier and Brian couldn't help think that the kid was way too easily pleased.

"You're like my own personal body guard."

"I'm not your personal anything," Brian said firmly.

"Find, you're like a superhero, looking out for queers everywhere."

"Christ, superheroes? You sound like Michael," he scoffed. "And," he added, "just so we're clear, I'm _always _on the look out for queers," he looked over at his passenger and smirked, "always."

Justin tried to roll his eyes but the sliver of a smile that pushed it's way onto his lips gave him away. It wasn't long until Brian was pulling up outside the loft and they both ran inside kissing and groping like horny teens, which, in Justin's defence, he was.


	16. Episode 117

_Set after Debbie and Michael's argument during David at Michael's dinner  
__for the senator. (Justin definitely goes after Debbie so here it is…)_

_*_

"Deb, Deb. Are you okay?" Justin asked, chasing Debbie down the sidewalk. He didn't care that it was hammering down with rain or that he was going to freeze because his only protection from the elements was some kind of ridiculous mesh cloth, t-shirt thing.

It had seemed like a brilliant idea when Brian had first suggested it in the diner.

"Michael didn't invite us because he didn't want us to embarrass him, right?" He'd said a horrible, plan-hatching grin plastered across his face. "Well, then, lets do something to _really _embarrass him. Emmet, have you still got that costume you wore for Halloween last year?"

"Yeah."

"Ted, dig up your finest leathers. Justin," he'd paused for a second when he'd got to the youngest member of the group, "just look through Michael's cupboards," he'd smirked, "he used to wear some god-awful clothes when he was your age; just keep away from hot pants, no ass looks good in hot pants. Not even yours," his eyes had flashed wickedly and Justin had grinned. "Vic," Brian had continued, "have you still got that pimp outfit from that party a few years ago?"

"I'm sure I could find it."

"Excellent," Brian had smiled getting his chequebook out from his briefcase. "How much do we think would cover all of us?"

"Wait a minute asshole, what about me?" Debbie had demanded.

"Deb," he'd smirked. "Do you remember when me and Mikey were about sixteen and you decided to chaperone our Christmas prom?"

Debbie had grinned, "Michael told me to never wear that outfit again."

"I don't know," Brian had said, sucking in air through his teeth, "I think disgusting, cheep, red fur jacket things and heart shaped sunglasses might just have come back into fashion."

Now, freezing cold, with Debbie almost in tears at how Michael had treated her, Justin wondered it perhaps they'd got it wrong. Maybe they should have just left Michael get on with becoming a pretentious asshole. But Justin had had to endure Brian silently cursing the way Michael had changed since he'd moved in with the doc for weeks, maybe it was time he was brought down a peg … or twenty.

"Deb," Justin called again, reaching out a hand to slow her down. The soggy fur felt disgusting under his fingers but at least , she turned to face him.

"Don't you worry about me, Sunshine," she gave a smile which was almost as wet as her hair and clothes, "you get back in there and enjoy the party. I'll see you at home."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, no," she insisted, reaching out a hand and placing it on his cheek. "You're getting soaked through. Go back, dry yourself off and have fun. Come back with Vic later."

"Okay," Justin nodded. He was becoming increasingly aware of the water soaking through his clothes. He knew his beige trousers were turning rapidly transparent and he was freezing cold.

Justin turned on his heels and ran back to the house. The music was still thumping and people were still dancing. It seemed, despite the little feud, things were carrying on as normal. Justin shivered violently as the rain froze on his skin, causing goose bumps to appear. He needed to dry off. He raced up the stairs and to the bathroom. It was locked. He knocked impatiently.

"WHAT!?" came an angry bark and Justin recognised it immediately. It was the noise Brian Kinney made when he was interrupted mid-fuck.

"Jesus Christ, Brian," Justin whined. "I need a towel, I'm fucking soaked."

Justin heard movement from inside the room and then the door opened slowly to reveal Brian, now fully dressed but looking a little dishevelled. How he'd managed to make a snake skin shirt and a golden-beige pants seem sexy Justin would never know. Brian looked Justin's dripping form up and down and then raised an eyebrow when he realised he could see straight through Justin's entire outfit.

"What the hell happened to you?" He chuckled, "Did Michael tip a glass of champagne over you?"

"No but he had a fight with Debbie. She stormed off. I went after her to see if she was okay and it's raining."

"When did all this happen?"

"Five minutes ago."

"Shit," Brian turned back to the room. "Put your pants on. We're finished." Then he stepped aside and Justin rushed in and started to dab himself with a towel.

"Fuck that," Brian said, "you could do with a shower. You need to warm up properly. You can come back to mine."

Justin nodded and followed Brian, shaking and shivering down the stairs. Justin wondered what to do about Vic but the older man said he'd get a lift of Ted and after checking if that would be okay, Justin told Brian they could leave. Brian looked silently amused that Justin had kept him waiting and had expected that to be just fine but Brian supposed it was fine. He touched Justin's shoulder and the frozen skin made him wince a little.

Brian turned the heating up as high as it would go in the jeep but it didn't seem to be making any difference. Justin's teeth were still chattering so loud, he could hardly concentrate on the roads ahead.

"Will you shut the fuck up," he snapped eventually.

"S-sorry," Justin stammered, wrapping his arms around him and angling the car heaters at him. Nothing helped.

As soon as he was in the loft, Brian was pushing Justin towards the shower. Justin stripped off and jumped in, hissing as the boiling water met with his icy skin. Watching the water cascade over the twinks body, Brian knew he had to join him. He stripped off and crept in too. He touched Justin's pale skin tentatively. He could still feel goose bumps beneath his fingers so he pulled him close and for a moment, fucking was the last thing on his mind and the first thing was warming Justin up. But then he felt a clever little tongue working at his collar bone and down to his nipple and Brian realised that the best way to warm Justin up would be to give him a good, cardio workout. So, for the benefit of the kid's health, Brian Kinney ripped open a condom packet and span Justin around.

--

Brian got out of the shower first but Justin decided he wanted to stay a few extra minutes. A few extra minutes turned into half an hour by which time Brian was fed up of hearing the shower running. He opened the door and leant against the wall frowning. Justin was sat on the floor of the shower, with his back to Brian, just letting the water flow over him.

"If," Brian started, taking satisfaction in the way Justin jumped, "you spend any longer in there I will be sending you the water bill."

"Sorry," Justin said, turning round and giving Brian a weak smile. He pushed himself to his feet and turned off the shower before reaching for a towel.

"It's okay," Brian said steadily. "Everything alright?"

Justin nodded and smiled in a way that was so forced Brian almost laughed but he managed to stop himself and instead said,

"so what is it that's bothering you?"

Realising that Brian could read him like a book, Justin didn't even bother to protest, he dried himself carefully and answered,

"just these asshole's at school."

"That Chris guy?"

"Yeah, he set fire to all the stuff in my locker."

"I told you, you were getting yourself into trouble," Brian said, his anger obvious in his tone although his voice was as flat and emotionless, which is to be expected from someone like Brian Kinney.

"That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" he questioned. "_D__on't worry Justin,_" he continued in a high-pitched tone, "_those asshole breeders will get what's coming to them. They'll be punished,_" he scorned. "If you wanna hear positive bullshit like that, talk to Debbie … or your mommy but don't ask because I don't lie and I don't sugar coat."

"And what's the un-sugar coated truth?" Justin demanded, tucking his towel around his waist.

"The truth is, nothing will happen to him. Even if they could find out who burned your locker out, they won't. And it's not because they haven't got time or money or any of the other bullshit they'll feed you. It's because they're all lowlife fucking breeders and they hate us. And they really hate that we fuck more than they do and have more money than they do and are more successful than they are. They hate that we stand up and let them know they're all sacks of worthless shit. And they hate that we don't hide in dark corners like the self-loathing queers at the Gay and Lesbian Centre."

Justin raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side, like a questioning puppy.

"Are you saying I should try to blend in?"

"Of course not," Brian snapped immediately. "There's nothing more pathetic than a fag pretending to be a breeder."

"So what _are_ you saying?"

"Don't expect this shit to go away, if anything it'll get worse," Brian warned carefully. "Just watch your back. That's all." Brian left the bathroom then, allowing Justin to think about what Brian had said. Maybe the thing outside Woody's with Hobbs had been a bit much but they'd been on his territory. Now, he supposed, he was back on Hobbs' territory and he'd have to put up with the shit until he could leave high school behind and go to college.


	17. Episode 118

**The second part was written thanks to an idea from rickiebeaumont. THANK YOUUUU! (and I hope it turned out something like how you imagined it.)**

**Also, as I'm actually writing an authors note thingamabob, I'd like to say thank you sooooooo much to everyone who reviews!! I really appreciate it. I know I don't get around to replying very often, but I'm trying to keep up posting one a day so I don't really get the time!! I can't believe I've nearly finished season 1! =O. Thanks for the support so far!!**

**xx**

* * *

_Set before the episode, Justin had to have told Brian he got into  
__Dartmouth at some point because, as amazing as Brian is, he's not  
__psychic … I don't think. _

_*_

The first Brian knew of Justin's visit was when the blonde twink came marching across his floor, straight past his computer desk, where he was working, and collapsed, full stretched, on his sofa.

"Come in, Justin," Brian mocked, "make yourself at home."

Justin rolled onto his back, lifted his head and grinned, "thanks" before allowing his neck to go weak and his head to fall back to the cushions.

Brian shut down his computer and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. It was pretty obvious his work for the time being was over.

"Get your fucking shoes off my furniture," he moaned, as he returned to the sitting area and slumped in the arm chair. "D'you have _any _idea how much Italian motor furniture costs?"

"More than I could afford to pay back on my salary," Justin beamed. He kicked his shoes off and let them fall to the lino with a soft thud, before putting his feet back on the sofa. "Especially," he continued, "as I'll have to fund my education at _Dartmouth _from now on_._" He put more emphasis than was necessary on the word and, despite a slight twinge of regret in his stomach, Brian forced a smile. He'd probably miss the kid but he assumed he'd get over it sooner rather than later.

"They accepted you?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," the kid confirmed happily.

"That's very impressive," Brian said with forced sweetness. Then grimly, he added, "It doesn't give you the right to break into my place."

"It's not breaking in. I have a key."

"Which you were supposed to give back when you moved into Deb's."

"You never said anything before."

"I'm saying something now," Brian said sternly but he saw the look in Justin's eye and knew he wasn't going to get his fucking key back. "Well, don't use it to just waltz in here unannounced."

"What could you possibly be doing that I haven't already seen?" Justin smirked.

"Many, many things. But don't worry, we'll try and cover most of them before you head off to Ivy League education and leave us poor schmucks behind."

"Mm," Justin was thoughtful for a moment. "I'll miss you," he whispered.

"You'll love college," Brian countered. Justin frowned but he played it Brian's way, just like he always did.

"Did you go to college?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's where I met Lindsey? I studied business and she studied art."

"That's what I'm studying," Justin said.

"Art?"

"Business."

"Oh." Brian knew he sounded surprised and that annoyed him. He knew that if he wasn't careful he could influence this kid's decisions. That's probably what terrified him most about Justin. It was the fact that Brian knew if he asked Justin to give up his education and move in, the kid would do it. There were times when Brian wanted to see just was the twink would do to impress him but he cared about him too much to mess his life up; which was very lucky for Justin.

"What?" the blonde asked.

"Nothing," Brian shrugged.

"Brian," Justin said in a tone that threatened a massive queen out if Brian didn't tread incredibly carefully. Brian took a sip of his drink, to buy him just a few extra seconds to think before answering."I just thought you'd be doing some kind of art course, that's all."

"I did think about it…"

"So what's stopping you," Brian cut in sharply.

"I don't think my parents would…"

"Who gives a fuck what your parents think?" Brian interrupted again.

"Well I…"

"You have to do what you want for you," Brian continued, hardly giving Justin time to breathe let alone speak. "Trust me. I'd like to present myself as exhibit A in a court case about how parents can fuck up a child."

Justin just nodded. "Can I have a drink?" he asked, wanting to change the subject from shitty parents and colleges that involved him moving a long way from here.

"Sure," Brian answered.

"Thanks."

Then, they both just sat there.

"Aren't you going to get it?" Justin demanded.

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Brian asked, lolling his head over the back of the seat and closing his eyes. "I'm perfectly comfy here."

"But I'm a guest."

"You lose all guest privileges the day you walk into my home as though you own the place. If you want a drink, get it yourself. You know where everything is."

Justin just grinned and got up to get himself a drink. But all he could think about was 'so what's stopping you'. He'd wanted to apply to Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts ever since he'd known of it's existence but now it was actually coming to the time when he could actually apply he was shitting himself. The truth was, he'd never _really _had his work judged before. The only people who saw it were friends and family who gushed over it but doesn't any family member gush over even the shittiest drawing if it's done by their baby? The truth was, Justin was terrified of rejection. He was terrified that his dream would be crushed. But then how many times had Brian crushed Justin's dreams of being with him? "Just a fuck", "I'm not even your friend". And now Justin was making himself a drink because Brian didn't consider him a guest anymore. Justin was a fighter, especially when it came to what he loved and what he loved was Brian and Art.

As soon as he got back to Debbie's, he filled out a form and sent it off. Now, he'd just have to wait.

* * *

_Set immediately after the episode finishes._

*

"Well you should really getting home," Brian whispered in Justin's ear.

"I thought I could come back to yours."

"Oh no," Brian shook his head. "You need to read up on Dartmouth," he said, taking Justin's wrist and leading him to the cloak room.

"Don't be like this," whinged the twink.

"I'm not being like anything," Brian hissed, as he took his jacket from the cloak clerk. He immediately spotted a mark that hadn't been there before. "What do you call this?" he demanded of the young man behind the desk.

"Erm, I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry? Do you have any idea how much this jacket cost?"

"Erm, no."

"No? More than your months wages!" Brian snapped, putting the jacket around his shoulders. "Sorry isn't gonna cut it," he scowled before storming off.

"Sorry," Justin apologised on Brian's behalf. "He's a bit miserable today."

The spotty clerk just nodded, obviously nervous not to offend anyone else.

Brian was already in the jeep, when Justin arrived. He was still inspecting his jacket and huffing about how it was ruined. Justin knew the smart thing to do would be to climb silently into the jeep and sit down without a word. However, Justin had given up on the 'smart thing' to do the night he'd met Brian. Now, it was all about what he wanted to do and speaking his mind.

"You didn't have to be rude," he said.

"I wasn't rude," Brian replied, finally ceasing the jacket inspection and revving up the engine, "he fucked up, so I told him," he frowned and turned to look at the passenger, "just like you."

"What about me?"

"You fucked up, or at least you're about to," he checked the roads and pulled out and began to drive them home.

"Who are you to tell me what I should be doing?"

"I'm someone who's had to endure you going on and on about Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts ever since you got accepted. I'm someone who knows what it's like to waste time trying to please parents who are never gonna give a fuck _and_ I'm someone who doesn't wanna see you throw you dreams away." He took a deep breath before concluding quietly, "I'm someone who gives a fuck."

Justin's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at the older man. He was trying to decide exactly what it was that was leading Brian to talk like this but he couldn't work it out. Maybe Brian didn't want to lose Justin to another state, maybe Brian actually did care about the twink or maybe Brian had given up his dreams to do what his father and mother wanted of him. Justin didn't know, he doubted he ever would.

"My arts not that important," the kid said offhandedly. "I don't need to draw, I need to be practical. Art's not a realistic future."

"Christ, you even sound rehearsed," scorned the older man, shaking his head a disbelieving look on his face. "Fuck practical and fuck realistic, you can fall back on that when your dreams have failed."

Justin was silent for a moment. He knew deep down that Brian was right but he was not going to give him the smug satisfaction of knowing it. So instead, he changed the subject,

"What's your dream?"

Brian was quiet for a moment, he tapped the steering wheel with his thumb and focused _very _hard on the road ahead of him. In fact, it took Brian so long to answer, Justin wasn't entirely sure if he'd even heard the question. He was about to repeat it when Brian sighed,

"To be the best."

"At what?" Justin encouraged.

"At," Brian took another deep breath, "everything. The best ad exec, the best looking, the best dressed, the best fuck, the best goddamn fag the world has ever seen."

Justin smiled at how honest Brian had been. Then, very quietly and in brutally honest tone, he said,

"I think you are the best."

"You're not the only one," Brian smirked and Justin rolled his eyes. He really should have expected that response. This was Brian Kinney after all, the man who simple couldn't have too high an opinion of himself.

It wasn't long before they pulling up outside Debbie's. Brian leant across Justin to open the passenger door and virtually shoved him out of his vehicle but just as the twink was about to shut the door the older man said,

"Oh Justin," the kid turned around, "you're not so bad yourself."

Justin beamed at him and slammed the door shut allowing Brian to drive off quickly just like he wanted too. It was Brian's style, say something and leave. Let it fester in his audience's mind and not have to answer any potentially awkward questions. Justin understood that. There were a lot of things he understood about Brian Kinney, more than even Brian knew.

* * *

**I'm not sure if i made Brian a bit soppy at this stage but he's done a few things now - like the refusing to speak when Justin accuses him of caring about the fact he's going out of state for college, so i'm not sure. Season one Brian and Justin is complicated! lol**

**Also, i've been having a few formating issues on the site so i'm hoping it's come out okay ... drop me a review or a PM if it hasn't! Thankssss!!**  
**xx**


	18. Episode 119

_Set some time between Daphne asking Justin to sleep with her and the event._  
_I don't think the time frame is overly important in this one ... _

_*_

It was just a typical lazy Sunday. Brian was lazed out on his sofa, flicking idly through a magazine, which consisted mainly of articles explaining why Prada was now more popular than Armani for shoes and Justin was sat the far end of the sofa like a chatty footrest. It wasn't Brian's idea of the perfect lazy Sunday but it's what he'd come to expect now that Justin had intergrated himself as a perminant fixture in his life and, as Justin had decided to follow his dream of going to Dartmouth, it seemed he was going to remain a perminant fixture for a long time to come. Brian didn't kick up a massive fuss, however, because Brian Kinney had never been one to complain about what you can't change and enduring Justin's visits had become just more typical thing about this Sunday. That was until the twink stop babbling on about some piece of art he was working on or what Chris Hobbs had done this week or the state of Deb's cooking or some piece of shit cable channel show he'd seen and said;

"Have you ever slept with a girl?"

Justin had fully expected the answer to be no. So he was extremely surprised when the older man said yes. In fact, Justin was so surprised he spat his drink everywhere and Brian kicked him, semi-angrily, in the leg as he got up and ran to get kitchen roll to mop it up. When Brian was satisfied with the state of his floor, Justin binned the tissue and asked,

"When? Why? And who?"

"That's a lot of questions," Brian frowned, allowing his magazine to fall flat on his stomach. It was times like this he wished he _hadn't _let Justin keep his key when he'd moved into Debbie's a few months ago.

"Well answer one of them."

"In college," Brian said calmly. "I wanted to know what it was like with a girl. Lindsey."

"What the … Lindsey, Lindsey? Lesbo Lindz?"

"Oh, you two have met?" Brian mocked him.

"I can't believe … I can't even imagine. That's so…."

"What?" Brian asked. "It's no different from what you'll be doing with Daphne. And anyway, it used to give both our parents a false sense of who we were."

"You did it for your parents?"

"Of course not," Brian snapped. "I did it because I could," he smirked, "and she did it because she loved me."

"But she's a lesbian."

"Sexuality's not as simple as black and white, gay and straight. Sometimes it's grey; and Lindsey's grey."

"So does that mean you're grey because you fucked a woman?"

"No, Emmet fucked a woman and he's about as much of a fag as it is possible to be, you're gonna have fucked Daphne by tomorrow evening, you're still gonna be a big queer."

Justin just nodded and sat down on the sofa again, sipping a bottle of beer that Brian hadn't known he'd swiped from the fridge. Brian huffed a little at being disturbed. After all, there was a perfectly good, completely unoccupied chair just a metre away but his feet found their way to Justin's lap again and then neither man seemed to mind the situation.

"So, what's it like?" Justin asked eventually, his face all scrunched up like a confused puppy.

"I think it was Oscar Wilde who once said, I like sex with a woman but I prefer the real thing."

Justin smiled a bit and took another sip of his drink.

"Just," but Brian stopped shaking his head a little, before lifting his magazine and pretending to read as though he hadn't even spoken.

Justin waited a while but it was obvious Brian wasn't going to continue without at least a little encouragement or perhaps it should be called insistent whining and tugging at the magazing until Brian snapped.

"Alright," he shouted, getting up off the sofa, throwing the magazine at Justin semi-violently and going to get a drink from the kitchen. He needed one. "I was going to say, just watch yourself."

"Watch myself?" Justin snorted a little. "Why? You think I'm gonna turn straight."

Brian laughed, "no, you're definitely a fag." With a smirk, he added, "I can vouch for that myself."

"What then?"

"Just, girls tend to need love to fuck and … men just need a place."

"Oh, no," Justin shook his head, "Daphne understands that I'm just doing her a favour. I mean, she's got a boyfriend. It's just fucking."

"With a woman, it's never just fucking, which is why I fuck men. That and I'd have to eat pussy."

Justin just grinned and took another swig of his beer. Suddenly, two arms found their way around his chest and he felt Brian's lips behind his ear.

"But if you want to make it special," he whispered, "you should really get some more practice in before tomorrow."

Justin chuckled and craned his neck backwards and Brian kissed him hard in this weird upside-down position which meant Justin's nose was bumping Brian's chin.

"Wow," Justin grinned, when they broke apart. "Have you ever kissed someone upside-down before?"

Brian nodded a little, his lips still pressed to Justin's neck as he unzipped the kid's sweater.

"Once," Brian admitted, as the sweater fell open leaving Justin's collarbone free to be licked and nipped at his will. "Michael wanted to know what it would be like to do the Spiderman kiss."

Justin choked with laughter and suddenly he was shaking so hard Brian had to stop what had been careful ministrations.

"What?" the older man demanded.

"You were such a dweeb."

"No," Brian corrected, "Michael was a dweeb." He went back to kissing the back of Justin's neck. "I just" kiss "stuck up for him" kiss "coz" kiss " he's my best friend."

Justin hummed a little, letting his head fall forward, giving Brian more access to his back and shoulders but there was a question he just couldn't keep to himself, no matter how nice all this felt.

"So, er, which one of you was Spiderman?" Justin asked, failing to keep the giggle out of his voice. This appeared to be the last straw and Brian huffed loudly, pushing himself away from the kid. Justin thought he'd really pissed the older man off but next second he was being manhandled and dragged to the bedroom.

He'd hardly registered what was happening until he found his wrists bound to the bed and his legs over Brian's shoulders. It was then that the older man leant in and murmured in Justin's ear, the question like a wet explosion,

"have you ever known Mary-Jane Watson to capture her pray and devour them?"

"No," Justin said, as steadily as he could but he was losing his cool fast, "but I've never known Spiderman to either."

"Guess I'm a whole new kind of superhero then," Brian shrugged, tearing the condom packet open with his teeth and spitting the wrapper away.

"Yeah?" Justin grinned, eyes flashing wickedly, "so what's your superpower?"

"As if you don't know," Brian smirked.

"Just, er, remind me."

It was times like this Brian was glad he hadn't taken his key from Justin, when he'd moved into Debbie's.


	19. Episode 120

**Okay, so I have a bit of a confession to make. Episode 120, The King of Babylon Contest, is easily my favourite episode of all time. It's funny, Dave's revealed to be a total hypocritical dickhead (or at least more of one), Justin gets one over on Brian and Brian Kinney says the line; 'I thought we had plans' to try to stop Justin running off with his trick - EPIC moment in the downfall of the 'I don't give a shit' Brian Kinney façade. And then **_**of course **_**there's the whole Diner scene the next morning - one of my favourite scenes of the entire show! **

**Essentially, in my humble, and often disagreed with, opinion, episode 120 is perfect! So I couldn't find any missing moments. Well, that AND the whole episode spanned a relatively short period of time compared to other episodes and almost every 'Brian/Justin' moment was shown. So this is a sort of next day (stand alone) sequel to the episode… I'm hoping you'll go with it.**

**However, if anybody can think of a better 'moment' then I'm all ears and I'm at your writing will. To be honest, there's probably loads, like I say, I was blinded by love for this episode.**

**I'll stop rambling now…. Hope you like it!**

**Xx**

* * *

_Set five minutes after the end of the episode … at the end of THAT scene in the diner!_

_*_

"Right," Justin smiled, still pleased with his victory at Babylon the night before. "I have to go to Daphne's. I promised I'd look over her applications and things for next year."

"I'll give you a lift," Brian offered, standing up to follow the kid, completely ignoring his friend's giggling and whispering behind him.

"You don't have to," Justin said but he was already making his way to Brian's jeep.

"It's on my way," Brian lied, getting in to his vehicle. He waited for Justin to stop messing about with his seatbelt pulling out into the traffic.

"So what's the Absolute Abs contest like," Justin asked, when they were stopped at traffic lights.

"Put it this way, you won't be going home with the crown."

Justin didn't say anything, he just looked out of the window and sighed.

"What?" Brian demanded but Justin just shook his head. Brian waited, he knew Justin couldn't keep anything to himself for long. He would have done the silent countdown but that was stupid and something Theodore would do.

"What are we Brian?" Justin said after maybe fifteen seconds of fuck. Not this again. "Well," Brian said slowly, "we're men, we're queer, we're American…"

"Don't fuck about," Justin groaned. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Brian frowned and flicked the indicator on, "I do."

"So?"

"Why do we have to define it, why can't it just be?"

"I don't wanna be a backup plan. The one you fall back on when you can't get anyone else."

"You're not," Brian said steadily. He checked his mirrors, if only to give him something to do other than look at Justin. "You're the one I do when I don't _want _anyone else." Justin was still trying to work out weather or not that was a good thing when Brian smirked, "I can always_ get _someone else. I can get anyone."

Justin laughed despite trying really hard not to let Brian know he found his insatiable arrogance amusing. They were quiet for a moment or two. The peaceful, comfortable quiet of two men who have nothing to say and no need for small talk. Suddenly, the car slammed to a halt.

"Get out," Brian said sharply. Justin looked out the window and spotted Daphne's house.

"You're always so angry when you don't get laid," Justin smirked, undoing his seatbelt.

Brian raised an eyebrow and shot Justin and incredulous look. Had he just rubbed it in that Brian had gone home empty handed the night before? It wasn't that Brian hadn't had other options. He's had plenty of options. He just couldn't stand the fact that everyone in the entire fucking club had been talking about fucking Justin; which would have been fine if _he'd_ been fucking Justin.

"Get out," Brian repeated and Justin leapt out like a child, all uncoordinated, flailing limbs and a soft stumble as he landed on the sidewalk. Brian just shook his head and the kid's inability to complete even the most mundane of tasks. But that didn't stop him calling Justin as the kid was about to shut the door.

"I'll, er, I'll see you at the Absolute Abs contest tonight?"

"I dunno," Justin shrugged with a self-satisfied smile, "I've got school tomorrow, I have to get a good night sleep."

"Right, I'll meet you outside the club say nine," Brian said as though Justin hadn't even spoken. Justin just smiled and shut the door.

--

It was freezing cold and Emmet was thrumming like a leaf in the wind. It was his own fault though, Brian thought, if he'd worn more than mesh for a t-shirt he'd be okay. Brian shivered violently; or not. Ted and Blake were keeping each other warm and whispering sickly, lovey-dovey, spew-worthy things that even Hallmark wouldn't put on a valentine's card for fear it was too soppy. Brian was pretty sure if Justin or Michael didn't arrive soon, he was going to kill either Ted, Blake or himself.

"Ready to go?" Michael asked, when he finally arrived.

"Where's the Doc?" Brian smirked. "Were you afraid those vicious fags were gonna get their sweaty palms all over him again? Or did he dislocate a hipbone dancing on that big greasy pole yesterday?"

"Where's Justin?" Michael countered, "still nursing his cock from all that fucking he was doing?"

"Why would I care?" Brian asked as casually as he could.

"You cared enough this morning," Ted pointed out, his arm wrapped tightly around Blake's waste.

Brian had no comeback so he just looked at his watch and bitched about the fact Justin was late.

"Maybe he's got a better offer," Ted suggested.

"Again," Michael added and the two started chuckling at their tag team take down of their friend. They were really getting a kick out of Brian's first fucking weakness since he'd left his parents home. Brian didn't say anything, he just mimicked their idiotic laughing and shivered a little.

"Fuck him," he growled, blowing into his cupped hands in an attempt to warm himself up. "Let's go in."

Just as they were going through the entrance to the club an indignant voice stopped them.

"You said to meet you out front," Justin whined.

"You organised a date," Michael whispered in Brian's ear.

"Fuck off," he snapped at Michael and to Justin, he said, "I also said at nine," and "come on."

Justin grinned and chased up the stairs, the bouncer didn't stand in the way or mention the queue of bitchy queers Justin had pushed ahead of. Brian Kinney was like fucking royalty in Babylon, what he wanted he got and he wanted Justin in the club. Hell, he wanted Justin. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd been craving the blonde twink since he'd found him fucking that Shay, Shane, Shaun whatever the fuck his name was in the backroom last night but he didn't wanna appear too desperate. Instead, he offered Justin a drink and went to the bar to get them.

It wasn't long however, maybe three songs of grinding with the kid that Brian needed to fuck so bad it was painful.

"Come on," he growled in Justin's ear and grabbed him by the hand to drag him to the backroom.

"Hey," Justin said calmly, yanking his wrist free. "Check back with me in an hour. I might have made other plans. That guy on stage, he's pretty hot. And he's definitely checking me out."

Brian looked up at the stage. The only guy on their was one of the fatter of the bouncers as he tidied up some of the wires preparing for the competition. Brian raised an eyebrow and turned to look back at Justin, who was beaming like he thought he'd done something brilliant.

"It was a joke," he clarified, as though it needed clarifying.

"No shit," Brian scorned, shaking his head half-fondly and half-angrily.

"Oh come on," laughed Justin grabbing Brian's hand and moving swiftly through the crowd. As they got to the backroom, Justin overheard a few men chatting as they pushed past.

"Kinney's always fucking that blonde runt."

"He told me he had a one fuck only policy."

"Me too."

"Same here."

"And me. That kid must be one amazing fuck."

"Well, he _was_ King of Babylon."

"So was I, Kinney still only fucked me once."

Justin could feel his stomach twisting up in knots. He willed the guys to stop talking otherwise he knew Brian would leave him bare-assed in the backroom and find some other stud to fuck in front of the crowd of critics.

"Maybe he's in a relationship." Shit. It was getting worse and there was no way Brian couldn't hear it. "It happens to even the most legendary studs. Remember Marcus Leveret."

"Oh god, yes!"

"Now, he lives with his partner in that little suburban cottage and has a fucking cat."

"How the mighty have fallen?"

"It's sad."

"It's tragic."

"It's pathetic," Brian joined the conversation casually, "that you four are so sexless you actually have to talk about other people's sex lives." Justin smirked a little, especially when Brian wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "We'll be giving a little demonstration in the backroom in a minute if any of you need reminding what the real thing looks like." He pushed Justin in front of him and began to make his way down the stairs. "And also," he added as final comment, "Marcus Leveret is 54, give him a break. I think the guy's earned the right to have a fucking cat without a couple of asexual fags like you bitching about him in a club."

Justin didn't really have time to think after that, it was only when they were walking back up the steps a while later that Justin said,

"why did you stick up for him?"

"Stick up for who?" Brian asked, guiding the kid through the shirtless torsos back to the dance floor. He wanted to dance for a while before he took Justin back to his flat and fucked him all over again.

"That Marcus Levis or whatever his name was."

"Mr Leveret," Brian gave a sort of nostalgic, faraway smile. "He was my old gym teacher."


	20. Episode 121

_Set either side of the scene where Brian gets the phone call to  
tell him the company in New York's promoting from within._

_*_

"Hey!"

"Oh fuck."

"What?" Justin asked, walking into the loft without invitation. "I didn't use my key, I knocked and waited, just like you asked me to."

"I'm busy," Brian lied. "What do you want?"

"To know how your interview went," Justin smiled.

"It went great, get out."

Justin shot Brian a look that said, 'whatever' before floating over to the computer desk and twirling on the chair.

"That's great. So you think you got the job?"

"They're probably drafting up my contract as we speak."

Justin gave him a weak smile before turning his attention to the computer monitor.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Oh, are these apartments in New York?" He ran the mouse over the internet page. Brian sighed heavily. It was obvious Justin was here to stay.

It would be weird not to have the twink invite himself around, when he moved to New York. He might even miss it occasionally, in between fucking a whole new world of queers and working on truly innovative and exciting ad campaigns. For a moment he was reminded of what Lindsey had said, 'when are you going to realise that Justin really loves you?' But he already had realised that, he'd finally truly seen it when Justin had begged him not to leave as he'd packed to go for his interview. He'd seen what he was doing to the kid and he knew that he had to go away. Not just for him but for Justin too. He cared about the kid but he didn't love him, he never would and it wasn't fair for Justin to waste his time following him around. Besides, it was a lot of pressure having that much influence over someone. He should know, he'd lived through it once with Michael and the main problem that came with hero-worship was that you were always expected to save the day. Well, he couldn't do that anymore. He couldn't play the perfect superhero for someone else. They both needed this split, they needed to move on, go back to their lives. Justin needed to find someone his own age and Brian needed to stop stringing him along but for now, he supposed, it wouldn't hurt to have the kid around just a little while longer.

"Here," Brian said, leaning on the back of the chair and leaning over him to use the mouse. Justin was overcome with Brian's smell surrounding him and he breathed in deeply. He was afraid he may never smell it again. "This is where I'm going to be working."

The most incredible building appeared on screen, it was modern and sleek. It was impressive beyond words and Justin thought it somehow reminded him of Brian. It was the perfect place for him and he knew with a sinking heart that Brian really did belong there. There was no way he'd return to the Pitts.

"Is that your view?" Justin asked as another picture came up on screen.

"Uh-huh," Brian nodded. "I also have my own bathroom, meeting room, coffee machine and secretary."

"You already have a secretary."

"Mm," Brian said, "it's a shame I can't take her with me," he sighed. "But I'm sure the ones in New York are equally as good."

Justin nodded as he flicked through more of the pictures. "Have you chosen your house yet?"

"No."

"I'll look for you," Justin beamed.

"Fine. Just don't break anything. I need a shower."

"Okay."

* * *

Brian felt sick. A younger man had taken the job. His job. He knew he'd been the best, the interviewers had practically salivated with excitement but they'd decided to 'promote from within'. It was a stupid policy, surely the man best qualified for the job should get it. He was Brian fucking Kinney, an award winning ad executive. There was _no one _better.

"Everything okay?" Justin asked, as he browsed the website for more appropriate flats for Brian.

"Hmm? Er, yeah, it's fine."

"You sure? You look like you did that time Gus was in hospital. He's okay, isn't he?"

"Yeah, yeah," Brian said distantly. "He's fine. It's …" he trailed off. He didn't want the kid to know he'd failed. "It's nothing."

"Okay," Justin smiled. "Then come look at this," he span the monitor around to show Brian what he was browsing. "It's an apartment. Ten minutes from where you work, bed raised up, stainless steal fixtures, look at the countertops the same as yours and top of the range appliances. It's perfect! And it's even bigger than this place. Look."

Brian walked over and stared at his perfect New York flat.

"It's great," he said flatly.

"You don't seem very excited."

"Well, lets not get too ahead of ourselves, they haven't offered me the job yet."

"You'll get it," Justin smiled encouragingly. "I know you will. Things always work out for you."

"Thanks. Look," he sighed, "I think you should be going."

Justin frowned a little but he shrugged and left relatively easily. He must have sensed something was up but Brian didn't care right now. He sat at his chair and looked at his perfect flat, his perfect office, his perfect life. Then, he moved the mouse to the 'X' in the top, right corner of his screen and made perfection disappear forever. He looked around at his loft, he'd just have to put up with second best for now.


	21. Episode 122

**Hiya!**

**Genuinely anxious about this episode. There were so many potential 'moments' I could have chosen but, at the end of the day, I don't realistically think I could have done anything other than the moments between Justin getting bashed and the final scene. It was sort of difficult so I hope I've done it justice. Also, you might have noticed, I'm quite dialogue driven and the lack of dialogue in this chapter has given me a bit of a panic attack. Haha.**

**So, here it is … the final part of season one. I intend to start season two on Monday, I think people generally seem to want these to continue.**

**Anyway, that's enough from me…. Enjoy!**

**Xx**

* * *

_Set after Justin is bashed, in, around and after the scenes we actually see_

_*_

He could hear the siren. See the flashing lights. Hear the gasps of other students as the scene was unveiled to them. He knew these things were happening, he could sense them but they felt unreal, like a dream. Everything felt like a dream. Fuck, he hoped it was a dream but then he felt himself being lifted from the tarmac by two paramedics claiming he had to leave Justin so they could do their jobs. Brian just did what they asked. He didn't have the strength to fight right now. He barely even remembered ringing 911, all he could think of was how Justin was lying there on the cold, hard floor motionless. Dead.

His shoulders shook, he could hardly breath. He felt a tentative hand on his arm but he jerked away sharply.

"Sorry," whispered the accompanying voice. He turned to see Daphne. She was shaking and crying. "What happened?" she sobbed.

Brian just shook his head. He couldn't speak and the truth was at that moment, he wasn't sure what had happened. Everything had been perfect. He'd been goofing about with Justin. It had been ridiculously romantic after all. In fact, it had been so ridiculously romantic, he'd almost been afraid to kiss the kid. He'd never let anyone that close before. And look what had happened … he'd probably gotten Justin killed.

He felt Daphne grip his arm again and this time he didn't pull away, he just let her cry against him as he slipped his arm around her shoulders. He noticed some of the paramedics were tending to Hobbs. Broken leg. As far as Brian was concerned, the little shit was lucky. He remembered back to the time when Justin had asked him if he'd have hit Hobbs if Hobbs had hit Justin. He'd said he would but he hadn't been certain. Now he knew. He'd wanted to kill that little fucker but he'd restrained himself because Justin had needed him. He heard the paramedics throwing phrases like, 'shattered knee' and 'may not play football again' about and he felt a bitter kind of victory. Brian knew he wouldn't get prosecuted, it had been in self defence, the police had already let him off but that was totally insignificant a menial fact of reality in a moment that seemed as far from reality as it was possible to be. He watched four men and two women carefully lift Justin's limp body onto a spinal board. He known in his gut the kid was in trouble as soon as he saw the yellow piece of plastic being taken from the ambulance. The paramedics were worried, it was obvious in their faces as they transferred the board onto a stretcher with painstaking perfection. Brian was assured they were moving as quickly as they dared but he couldn't help feel it was still a gut-wrenchingly slow process. Eventually, they were lifting him steadily into the ambulance.

Brian shook Daphne off and went over to one of the paramedics as they tried to shut ambulance door.

"I'm going with him," he said firmly.

"Are you a family member, sir?" the woman asked.

"No. I'm a," he paused because he wasn't really sure what he was, so he settled with, "friend."

"I'm sorry, sir. Only family can travel in the ambulance. You'll have to follow by car." She went to shut the door and just as it was about to click shut, Brian blurted,

"He's my partner."

For a second, Brian thought it wouldn't make any difference but slowly the door opened again and the nurse silently beckoned him in. Brian breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her as he climbed into the vehicle. He wasn't sure why he'd said it. He just knew he wasn't going to let Justin ride alone in the ambulance.

Sitting, helpless, as the paramedics starting hooking all kinds of tubes and wires up to Justin, Brian began to understand what it was to be wracked with guilt. His 'no regrets' policy had always left him guilt free in the past but now he was paying for it with a lifetimes worth of hurt. He felt sick. He even requested a bucket as he watched the ambulance men and woman very carefully bandage Justin's head back together. Brian was reminded of Humpty Dumpty and would have laughed if anything about this situation had been funny.

One of the women removed the white scarf from Justin's neck and threw it to the floor. Brian snatched it up immediately and held it close to his chest. He could feel tears sliding slowly down his face. This was all his fault. If he hadn't gone to this stupid prom, a man he cared about wouldn't be battling for his fucking life after have his brain stuffed back in his skull and held together with bandages. He could hear the sirens blaring and he knew they must have been travelling really quickly but he couldn't help feel it wasn't quick enough. Justin needed help now or … Brian couldn't even consider the consequences.

Finally, the paramedics stepped away from Justin's body and took their seats. Carefully, and very slowly Brian reached out a hand and clasped Justin's fingers. They felt a little cold and clammy but Brian didn't care. He wanted the kid to know he wasn't alone. If these were to be Justin Taylor's last moments, Brian sure as hell wouldn't let him battle through them alone.

--

After what seemed like forever, they'd pulled up outside the hospital. Brian had let go of Justin's hand and the paramedics had lifted him carefully down from the ambulance and rushed him into the hospital, talking about emergency procedures and a potentially fatal head wound. Brian wanted to vomit all over again but he kept strong and followed Justin until a nurse stopped him put an arm across his chest and stopped him.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said sympathetically. "You can't go any further. You'll have to let the doctors work their magic now."

Brian nodded dumbly before asking, "er, w-where can I wait?"

"There's a waiting room just down the hall or if you prefer, I can get you a chair put nearer the theatre."

"That'd be, um, great," he said numbly. "Thanks."

"Okay, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

Brian went to shake his head but then he realised he couldn't bare the thought of sitting alone. He needed his support system, his family so he asked,

"Erm, can I make a phone call?"

"Of course."

The nurse took him to the receptionist, who handed him the hospital phone. Brian's hands were shaking so much he could barely press the numbers but eventually, the phone was ringing.

"Hello." Michael sounded so excited that it shocked Brian. He'd forgotten the rest of the world had carried on as normal whilst his world was quickly collapsing and Justin's world could be over.

"Mikey," he said as calmly as he could. "It's Brian, I need you."

"What's happened?" His friend asked. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital."

"Christ! Are you okay?"

"It's not me."

"Then who?"

"It's," Brian took a deep breath. "It's Justin. They're not sure if he's going to make it. Get here as soon as you can."

Brian hung up. He couldn't face anymore questions and he couldn't have said anymore. He smiled a polite thank you to the receptionist and returned to his uncomfortable plastic chair.

--

Time lost all meaning. Everything had lost meaning. They'd moved Justin out of the operating theatre and into a different room but no one would tell Brian what was going on. Only family were privy to that information. Shit. Jennifer. Brian hadn't even thought to ring her but the more he thought about making the call, the more he realised he couldn't. He couldn't be the one to ring her up and tell her, her son was battling for his life. It wasn't his place. Instead, he gave the number to a passing nurse and let the hospital sort it out.

He was vaguely aware of Michael arriving, in the way that you're aware of shadows in summer. They're there but you don't feel there presence, however to be without it would be sickeningly unsettling. Brian felt Michael's comforting hand on his shoulder but he didn't feel comforted. He just felt alone and responsible.

Brian didn't say a word. Eventually, Jennifer arrived looking pale and shaken, she, of course, was told everything. It seemed, that although the surgery had been successful they weren't overly optimistic about his chances of recovery. Fifty, fifty, one doctor said. Brian shut his eyes tight; those weren't good odds.

By the time Debbie arrived, Jen was a total mess.

"Michael, go and get her some tea will you," she demanded, before placing the distraught woman in the seat next to Brian and holding Jen's head close to her middle it a weird hug.

"And how're you doing, kiddo?" Debbie asked, placing her hand gently on Brian's cheek, wiping away a few unspoken tears with her thumb. Brian's eyes flicked up to look at her before he returned to staring straight ahead of him.

"It's okay," she soothed both of them, "I'm sure he'll be fine."

When Michael returned, he gave the tea to Jennifer who thanked him and then Debbie dragged him to a spot not quite far enough away. Brian overheard their concern.

"He hasn't said anything since I got here."

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know."

--

It took three days for the doctors to finally decided Justin was going to survive. Brian hadn't moved except to go to the toilet. He hadn't eaten and he'd only drank when Michael had forced bottles of water into his hands. He'd hardly slept and when he had all he could see was the incident over and over again like a horror movie that won't leave you alone. He'd woken with a jump every time and Michael would always look concerned.

"You were talking in your sleep," he'd say, "you never do that. You sounded frightened."

Brian would just give a simple nod and mumble something about being fine. In fact, Brian had hardly said a word the entire time he was at the hospital. He was the only one who sat out the entire thing, with Michael, of course, supporting him. He'd never have made it through without Michael, he barely made it through with him.

Jennifer had spent a lot of time there but she still had to look after Molly and the rest of the gang had lives to lead. But Brian's life would be put on hold as long as Justin's was. He had no idea what he'd do if Justin never woke up. He didn't even want to think about it. He tried to keep his mind blank and continued to sit in silence. When, the doctor finally delivered the good news, Brian simply rose to his feet and left. He could hear the murmured concerns of his surrogate family as he left but he didn't care. Justin was okay, he could go back to his life now.

--

Brian had always been a good actor, he'd been at it since he was very small. He'd learnt to act thankful when his mum had cooked him a god-awful meal because otherwise he didn't eat. He'd acted happy all through high school because otherwise people would question him about his home. He'd acted love when he'd first met Michael because otherwise he might have found someone else and he'd acted like an asshole ever since because otherwise people might get too close. All this acting had meant that when it came to hiding something, Brian Kinney was a pro. That's why everyone believed that the night Justin woke up was the last time Brian ever visited the hospital. They believed that he'd just locked himself away from the world, tricking and drinking and smoking like never before. None of them would ever know he went back every night just to check the kid was still recovering; still breathing, still there.

Brian had to see him, to know he was okay but he knew that Justin wouldn't want to see him. Not after what he'd done to him. He'd almost gotten him killed. Justin would probably never want to see him again, and Brian would never blame him for that, but that didn't mean that Brian wouldn't watch over him until he knew the kid was better. Because Justin wasn't just the kid, he was _his kid._

* * *

**END OF SEASON ONE!!!! Thanks for all your support and for reading so far!!  
XX**


	22. Season 2 Episode 201

**Season two! WOOP WOOP!**

**D/C : Unfortunately, despite trying me very bestest, Queer as Folk_ still _doesn't belong to me! So _please _don't sue me as I'm a student which means I'm already in enough debt to last me a life time. =[**

**A/N: I know, I managed to leave this fic alone for a whole two days but now I shall go back to bombarding you with updates whether you want them or not. Seriously though, thank you all _so _much for reading this fic so far - and thanks to all those who reviewed season one! Hope you enjoy season two!**

* * *

_Set either side of the final scene where Justin and Brian are throwing the ball  
__to each other. [Final scene is where there's a page break] (Am I the only  
__one who finds it weird that they're still making the father/son comparison with  
__Justin and Brian at this point? But hey ho, whatever …)_

_*_

"Hey."

"Brian?"

"Yeah, er … what are you er, what are you doing?"

"When?"

"Right now."

"Nothing really. Daphne's over but…."

"Oh. I was thinking I might drop by, see how you are."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, but I, er … I wanna see you. Is now a bad time?"

"No."

"Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

Justin put down the phone and looked at it in complete confusion. Had Brian Kinney just called him to ask to come over? The man who couldn't even be bothered to turn up at the hospital for over two months was now going to drop by. Sometimes Brian was beyond impossible to read.

Daphne came in from the kitchen and seeing Justin's expression, she asked;

"What's up with you?" as she put the drinks she'd just made them on the coffee table. They were supposed to be doing Justin's exercises but so far they just talked and gossiped and giggled like they always used to.

"Er, Brian's coming over," Justin said distantly.

"He is?" she asked, with a bit of a grin. Justin couldn't help smile too. He knew Daphne was one of Brian's biggest fans.

"Yeah, he just rang."

"Well isn't that good?" Daphne asked, looking uncertainly at Justin's miserable expression. "D'you want me to go?"

"No. You can stay."

"Justin, what's wrong? You're acting kinda weird."

"I don't understand," Justin admitted quietly. "I mean, this is my mum's house. Nothing's going to happen, he knows that."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Daphne frowned. "Why do you look so miserable?"

"Because," Justin said impatiently, "he knows that."

"What?" Daphne asked. She was completely confused now. Maybe that bash to the head had knocked Justin's brain sideways and now he spoke in confused riddles that only made sense to him; it was an option.

"So he's coming over to see _me_, just to see how _I_ am," Justin explained, "he's never done that before. It's always been about fucking."

"What about the prom," Daphne pointed out. "That wasn't about fucking."

"Doesn't count," he said slowly. "I can't remember it."

"Well, like I said, he was really shaken up when they were putting you in the ambulance. He looked like someone had beaten the shit out of him or out of the love of his life," she giggled, pushing him playfully in the shoulder.

"Fuck off," Justin chuckled, as he toppled a bit on the sofa.

"Seriously though," Daphne was suddenly solemn, "he was really shook up."

"That's what Michael said," Justin whispered as though talking too loudly would break this spell that Brian seemed to be under at the moment. "It's weird."

He stared for a moment as though really thinking. Daphne suspected he was trying to remember what happened at the prom and that had only ever ended in a burst of anger and often smashing things.

"Hey," she distracted him, holding the tennis ball infront of his face. "Isn't it about time you threw the ball? You have to keep doing your exercises."

Justin rolled his eyes. "You're such a mother."

"I don't care. I want you to get better."

Justin sighed and took the tennis ball. He threw it once to Daphne, missed his target and gave up. It was so goddamn frustrating. It should be so easy, just throw a ball to a friend. Simple. He'd been doing it since he was five but now it seemed like the most difficult thing in the world.

The doorbell went soon after and Justin went to answer it, ball still in his hand.

"Hey," Brian said. He didn't look quite as confident as usual but that didn't stop him smirking at Daphne over Justin's shoulder and telling her she looked lovely.

"Thanks Brian," she giggled. She was getting used to Justin's partner (or whatever he was) flirting with her. She'd come to expect it but it didn't mean she didn't blush a little. It wasn't her fault, Brian was sort of gorgeous, even if he was older … a lot older.

"So," Brian said slowly, "how's your hand?"

"You know," Justin shrugged.

"Well, no, I'm not a psychic and you haven't told me."

"It's fine," Justin lied.

Brian raised an eyebrow and looked down at Justin's right hand.

"Doing your exercises," he said. It wasn't really a question and it wasn't really a statement either so Justin didn't know how to react. He just stood motionless as Brian took him gently by the right wrist and brought the hand toward his own chest, before pulling the ball free. He seemed to inspect the ball for a second, as though he'd never seen one before and as though it amused him.

"Go on then," he encouraged, throwing the ball back to Justin. "Let's see you throw it."

To Daphne's surprise, Justin threw the ball and it hit Brian square in the chest. Brian didn't patronise him by saying it was good like everyone else he'd thrown a ball with. Instead, Brian pulled a strange expression as if to say 'not bad' and threw the ball back.

It wasn't long - or perhaps it was long, Justin wasn't sure, time flew when he was with Brian - until Jennifer was returning home. To say she was surprised, when she saw her son throwing the ball back and forth with such force and determination wouldn't really have covered it but that didn't even come _close _to how surprised she was to see her son's lover there with him. Jennifer Taylor's opinion of this Brian Kinney had been up and down more times that Brian's own bedsprings. She'd hated him at first, for taking her son and ruining her family. Then, she'd seen how happy he made her son, how he'd given her son a new family and new friends, a new life that he seemed to love and she'd grown more fond of the man. She knew Brian would never love her son. She'd been around Liberty Avenue enough to know that the man wasn't capable of love and that he was the biggest whore in Pittsburgh but she knew her son loved him and, although that thought terrified her from time to time, she'd seen how the older man had looked out for Justin. She had a stomach churning feeling that, had it not been for Brian, Justin would be in Dartmouth doing something he _never _wanted to do. But, although she were grateful for all the good things Brian had done for her son, when she looked at him now, all she could see was the man responsible for her son's bashing. The man who was there when her son nearly died. The one who's fault it all was.

She knew she didn't want him anywhere near Justin ever again and she knew he'd do as she wished. He cared enough about Justin to do what was best for him but he didn't care enough to stake his claim and fight.

* * *

She'd been right. Brian hadn't put up that much of a fight, although it was obvious he cared. He'd made it as easy as possible for her but she'd never expected it to be as difficult as it was and as Brian drove away she felt a twinge of doubt in her gut. After all, Brian had said he cared.

She put on a brave face when she went back inside. No one, not even her son would have guessed, that anything was wrong as she asked Daphne if she wanted to stay for tea.

"Where's Brian?" Justin asked as he watched the his mother shut the front door.

"Er, he said he had somewhere he had to be," Jennifer said cooly before going to the kitchen.

Justin couldn't help but frown. Brian always said 'something came up' because, although he was thirty, he still had the sense of humour of a thirteen year old who'd just discovered dirty jokes but Justin didn't let it him bother him too much. He just sipped his drink and chatted with Daphne.


	23. Episode 202

THIS MAY NOT WORK; IT'S MY FORTH TIME TRYING TO POST IT - SO FAR THERE'S BEEN SOME INTERNET/ FORMAT FAILING WHICH HAS MEANT HALF THE CHAPTER KEEPS DISAPPEARING. : SO I** HOPE **THIS COMES OUT OKAY ...

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* * *

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**Okay … this is a bit different!**

**There's three sort of interlinked one shots that could have happened any time between Justin moving into the loft and the 'remembering' at Gus' birthday. And then there's a usual 'missing moment' at the end.**

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* * *

_

Brian was just finishing buttoning his shirt after his shower when he heard it. There was a loud crash and a cry of frustration. The sound of paper being torn up and thrown around. Justin. He ran out of the bedroom, down the few steps and stopped. His loft was a mess. There was paper and pencils everywhere, Justin's easel was on it's side across the room and Justin was kicking at it angrily and swinging his arms around aimlessly.

Brian's first thought was his television. He had to stop Justin breaking anything or hurting himself. He ran over ducking and weaving the oncoming fists until he could catch hold of Justin's arms and pin them to the younger man's side. He held him tight as he continued to struggle and kick in his arms.

"Let go!" he screamed. "Let go of me!"

"Never," Brian whispered in his ear and strengthened his grip on the determined young man. Eventually, Justin started to calm down. He stopped kicking at Brian's shins and he stopped trying to punch him and then, he just started to sob.

Justin hadn't really cried since the accident. He hadn't wanted people to see him turn into this pathetic little faggot who couldn't even sign his name for a while. He didn't want people to feel sorry for him, to baby him and make him feel even more of an invalid than he already was but Brian didn't do any of that, he just allowed Justin to sob onto his shoulder. He held him close and stroked his hair to sooth him and eventually, when Justin stopped crying he asked simply,

"you feeling better?"

Justin nodded, sniffing a bit.

"Good," Brian said, letting go and allowing Justin to take a step backwards.

"Sorry about the mess," Justin sniffed, wiping his face with a sleeve of his shirt.

"We'll sort it out later," Brian promised, rubbing his arms up and down Justin's biceps.

"Just … go take a shower or something. Try and relax."

Justin nodded slowly, his eyes not meeting Brian's. "Will you come with me?"

"I just…." The older man was about to protest but then Justin lifted his gaze and looked right at Brian.

"Please," he whispered, so desperately it was more of a plead.

Brian rolled his eyes a little and nodded, before following Justin into the warmth and soothing beat of the shower.

--

The nights were worse. Justin was less nervous now that Brian had promised to wait for Justin to make the first move. Saying that had almost killed Brian, he'd never before let _anyone_ make the first move. He liked to be the one in charge, the one on top. He was always on top. But agreeing to wait, hadn't readied Brian for the nightmares. They didn't occur for almost three nights but when they did, Brian was terrified. It was almost as though it was happening all over again. He heard Justin scream, saw him writhing, sweating and terrified, scrunching the sheets and flapping his arms about.

"Justin," Brian spoke gently, catching a flailing arm and stroking his hand. "Justin, wake up."

Justin just lashed out again repeating the same word over and over, 'no. '

"Justin!" Brian shouted, shaking the kid a little and suddenly Justin's eyelids flew open and he clutched at Brian. It was obvious whatever was in his nightmares was petrifying him. Brian just held him, stroked his hair and listened as Justin's breathing began to slow to a more normal pace.

"Okay?" Brian asked steadily, though in reality his heart was racing like a hummingbirds wings.

Justin nodded mildly, pulling away from the older man carefully. It was as though he'd suddenly felt caged in.

"I'm fine," Justin smiled bravely and got up to go to the bathroom.

When he came back, he seemed to have composed himself a bit. He crawled onto the mattress and pulled the duvet around his shoulders.

"Feeling better?" Brian asked gently.

Justin nodded mutedly.

"Wanna talk about it?" Brian questioned in the same semi-strained tone. Justin just looked at the older man. This _nice_ Brian, the kind one that genuinely seemed to care was kind of difficult to get used. Brian Kinney had never once asked anyone how they felt, often he didn't care and if he did care he didn't know how to react to feelings and emotions. But he was trying really hard for Justin and the twink wasn't sure why but, if Brian was trying to talk, then the least Justin could do was try and talk too.

"I saw him."

"Hobbs?"

"Yeah. I was dancing in Babylon with you and then you went off to buy a drink but" he paused, he seemed nervous, "you never came back." Justin fiddled furiously with the edge of his t-shirt refusing to meet Brian's eyes. When he continued, his voice was so quiet, Brian had to lean in close to hear him.

"I went to the bar to look for you and I saw the back of your head. You were chatting to this guy…"

"Was he hot?" Brian smiled. He wasn't sure why he said it, he just wanted to do _something _to lighten the intensity.

"Obviously," Justin smiled a bit but it was forced and it died quickly. "Anyway, I went over to you and tapped you on the shoulder only it wasn't you … it was him and then he…." Justin stopped. He couldn't have gone on if he'd wanted to. His eyes squeezed shut as he tried to block out the memories for the dream.

"It's over now. It was just a dream," Brian soothed. "Try not to think about it anymore."

Over time, 'try not to think about it' became Brian's mantra. Every time Justin tried to talk about the attack, every time he wanted to talk about Hobbs or his nightmares Brian would tell him not to think about it and carry on with whatever it was he was doing. It worked, sort of, and Justin was able to bury his fears out of sight and let them fester and boil like a disease. As the years passed, the fears would boil into hatred that would one day need to be released but for now, it was a solution of sorts. Justin couldn't help wonder if Brian had used his own advice in getting over his own questionable childhood. Maybe he'd just buried the mistreatment, the fights, the loveless home away and didn't think about them. However they would both learn eventually that burying things like that isn't easy and one way or another they get to you, whether it be a thirst for revenge or an inability to say three special words - unresolved pasts haunt you and ruin your life.

--

Although Brian didn't seem to want to deal with the emotions beyond holding Justin whilst he cried and telling him to forget things, he was much better when it came to the hand cramps and the rages. He was strong, he could hold Justin whilst he tried to tear the place down and he wouldn't take no for an answer when it came to exercises. He pushed Justin harder than anyone when it came to his exercises. But Brian really came into his own the first time he saw Justin's hand cramp up.

The kid was drawing the fruit bowl, trying to get back into it but every couple of minutes his hand would give way and he'd be reduced to a claw. He tried to stretch his fingers out and go again but each time the cramp was more severe and the pain more excruciating until he let out a hiss of pain and, above all, frustration.

Brian looked up from his work.

"Everything okay?" he asked, trying not to sound too concerned. Justin didn't like to be patronised.

"Yeah," Justin lied, a bright smile on his face.

Brian gave him a look that told him he knew he was lying but he respected the lie and went back to his work. Next time Brian looked up to see Justin pushing his fingers against the countertop to try and stretch them out, he decided it was time to get a beer; and a better look. Of course Justin started to draw when Brian was close but the older man knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up so he opened the fridge very slowly. He took a long time about finding the beer, he took even longer about finding a bottle opener and then he took an age putting it back in the draw exactly as it had been before, until Justin cried in agony and his hand shook into a claw again.

Brian saw it and put his beer down, reaching over to take Justin's hand gently in his own.

"Here," he whispered, rubbing the tender muscles carefully with his thumbs. Justin was almost in shock at how much better his hand felt as Brian slowly worked the cramp out from his fingers and up to his wrist.

"Is this helping?" Brian asked, still firmly massaging.

"Yeah, it's, er, it's great," he smiled gratefully.

"Well, I'm good with my hands," Brian smirked. "And," he added more seriously, "next time, ask for help, got it?"

Justin nodded embarrassedly.

"Okay," Brian said, letting go of his hand . "Then get back to your drawing."

Justin just grinned. He didn't think it was possible to be more in love with Brian than he was at that moment. He knew, he'd love him forever.

* * *

_Set immediately after Justin remembers being bashed at Gus' party._

_* _

Brian wasn't sure what he was meant to be doing, he just held the kid tight and hoped it would be enough. He could feel a wet patch on the shoulder of his shirt as salty tears started to seep though the blue fabric but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst thing was the way Justin was thrumming like a plucked guitar string in his arms. It was like he was freezing cold and more terrified than he'd ever been all at the same time. He felt the kid go weak, as though the only reason he was still vertical was because he was clutching onto Brian; and he was clutching. Brian could feel the kid's finger nails digging sharply into his arm but he ignored it as best he could. He looked up to see Lindsey staring at them. She was mouthing,

"Is he okay?"

Brian shook his head gently and made a gesture that they were going to leave. Lindsey just nodded, she understood, she knew that neither man wanted to make any kind of scene so she called everyone's attention as she helped Gus open another present.

Brian silently thanked her, as he moved awkwardly into the house and sat Justin on the sofa.

"You okay?" he asked, looking around to see if he'd forgotten anything.

"I can't …" he started, and then, "don't leave me," he whispered, clutching at Brian's arm desperately.

"It's okay, I'm right here," the older man promised. He couldn't think of anything else they needed to take home and even if there was, it wasn't important now. The only thing that mattered was getting Justin back to the loft.

Brian helped Justin up, a little scared by how pale and jumpy the kid was. He was covered in a cold sweat as he moved shakily to the jeep and Brian was careful not to let go of him until absolutely necessary. He held his hand the entire drive back and Justin had stopped shaking by the time they got outside the loft but that didn't mean he wasn't looking around like a deer sensing a nearby predator. He squished close to Brian and the older man didn't know what to do other than hold him as they made the walk from the jeep to the apartment building and finally made the assent in the elevator.

It wasn't until Brian had helped lower Justin on the bed that the twink finally passed out. Brian sat with him for a while, Justin still had hold of his hand and it didn't seem right to leave him. However, it soon became obvious Justin wasn't going to wake up for a while and Brian decided he had better things he could be doing, like calming his nerves with a glass of Jim Beam. He got up to leave and, as a parting gesture, put a hand to the younger man's forehead to push the sweat-drenched hair away from his face but his palm was met by scolding hot skin. Justin was burning up.

Brian quickly removed the kid's pants and jumper and pulled back the duvet. And then, he just sat panicking for a moment. He didn't know what to do. He'd never felt so out of control except for … well, except for the day of the actual bashing. Now, sitting in his loft, looking at the kid, lying in a virtually unconscious state and being able to do nothing about it, it almost felt like Justin had been bashed all over again.

Eventually, Justin's temperature evened out and he began to look semi-peaceful. It was only then that Brian left his side and went to turn the lights off around the loft.


	24. Episode 203

**Over 100 reviews! WOOP! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing so far! LOVE to you all!  
****Xx**

* * *

_Set after the episode - Brian's just got back from comicon_  
*

Brian always did the same when he came home to the loft. He'd kick his shoes off by the front door, he'd undo his belt and threw it … somewhere. Justin would say hey and he'd say it back. Then, he'd rip off his shirt and pull on a wife beater vest before grabbing a beer or a whiskey, depending on how demanding the day had been, and relaxing on his sofa.

This evening, however, things were a little different. He still kicked his shoes off by the front door. He still undid his belt and threw it … somewhere. Justin still said hey and Brian still said it back. He still unbuttoned his shirt and pulled on a wife beater vest. And then he attempted to get to the fridge. That was a feat which was easier said than done.

Justin seemed to have turned his kitchen into an assault course of dishes and food, knives at dangerous angles and mess everywhere. But Brian didn't say anything, this assault course was quickly becoming another standard part of his after-work routine and it was nice to come home and not have to worry about calling for Thai or going to Babylon on an empty stomach.

He worked his way to the cupboards, carefully avoiding anything that could scar his perfect body, and opened the door. Today was definitely a day for Jim Beam and Jack Daniels to work their magic. It had been a weird day. Watching Justin walk down that street all my himself for the first time since the bashing had filled him with a weird sense of pride and messing with the GLC had given him a sick thrill but it was more than that. The truth was he couldn't stop thinking about Bellwether's article. Of course, it annoyed him that Bellwether had said he was thirty one but it had also annoyed him that he'd attacked this thing he had with Justin. Okay, it might not have been entirely legal the whole time and okay, it wasn't entirely conventional but he didn't need self-righteous assholes attacking it. It was good, whatever it was.

Brian opened thee bottle of whiskey, poured himself a glass and waited to see how long it would be before his house guest said something.

"How did the award ceremony go?" Not long then. "Is that what you wore?"

"No," Brian said, putting his glass on a free bit of counter top, a bit that wasn't being taken up with endless food products, and sitting on one of his bar stools. "I didn't go to the awards farce."

"What?" Justin asked, looking up from his mixing and wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. "Why not?"

"Because it was a joke, because they didn't want me there and because I'm not a hero." He reached out a hand to dip his finger in the sauce Justin was making but the twink slapped it away with a chuckle and a warning. Brian felt all of a sudden horribly domesticated.

"So where have you been?" Justin asked, tasting the sauce from his own finger and deciding it needed something from the fridge. As soon as his back was turned, Brian dipped his little finger in the sauce and tasted it too. It was good, not that he'd tell Justin that. He'd probably tell him it passed for edible and the twink would take it as a compliment anyway.

"Er, comic-con," Brian answered as Justin turned back round. The younger man just looked at Brian, his eyebrows raised, a sort of bemused smirk playing across his face. "What?" Brian demanded.

"You're a geek," he said with mock disgust.

"I'm not a geek, I went for Michael."

"Still a geek," Justin mumbled, carefully pouring half the sauce onto one of the half chicken's he'd calved earlier.

Brian almost scowled and then he thought of the potential wrinkles and smoothed his face out immediately.

"You know," Justin said, pouring the remainder of the sauce on the other plate. "I knew you didn't go to the ceremony."

"You did?"

"Yeah, Debbie rang, she was kinda pissed. Buuuut," Justin put a few of his used bowls in the dishwasher and then span around and beamed at Brian, "I've got some news about Bellwether you're gonna love."

"He's decided to retract his blaspheme about my age and is writing a full page article to let the whole world know I'm thirty?"

"I didn't think you wanted the world to know you're thirty."

"Better than them thinking I'm thirty-one," Brian conceded as he watched Justin's face crinkle up as he concentrated _very _hard not to spill any sauce whilst moving with the two plates of food towards the table and placing them down at the two seats.

"Hmm," Justin agreed, turning around and beaming at the older man. "This news is better than that," he promised.

"I really doubt it" Brian said sceptically, moving to the table and sitting down at his food.

"Bellwether is a hypocrite," Justin beamed.

"That's your big ne-. No. That's not even news, all journalists are hypocrites."

"Hmm," Justin hummed, moving behind Brian and running his hands over his chest. "But Michael and Ted saw Bellwether at a bareback party."

Brian raised an eyebrow and that famous smirk stretched his lips. "What were Michael and Theodore doing at a bareback party?"

Justin slapped him on the shoulder and went to get cutlery. "I knew you'd focus on the wrong bit of the story."

"So Harold Bed-wetter wants to risk his health spreading STI's whilst writing about the gay social conscience. So Emmett's supposedly monogamous employees turn out to be preying on the house help."

"I didn't know that."

"Oh yeah, they were seasoned predators. But I mean, are we really surprised? After all, behind every pseudo-hetero-homo is a fag. And fag's will do anything to get what they want."

Justin sighed and sat down at the table.

"The only difference between me and Bell-end-bothered," Brian concluded, "is that I'm honest about my escapades."

"Painfully so," Justin agreed.

"Would you prefer it if I, like him, hid behind a wall of false-dignity and lies?"

Justin shrugged but Brian knew that it was a 'no' carefully disguised as indifference.

"I'm a fag," Brian stated plainly. "I was born a fag, I'll die a fag and I'm gonna live like a fag. Which is why you'll never catch me marrying or settling down and also," Brian smiled smugly, "why I'm gonna die happy and free." Then added in little more than a mumble, "and preferably young."

Justin just rolled his eyes and unfolded his napkin, setting it on his lap.

"But," Brian said, the smirk returning, "none of this explains why Ted and Mikey were at a bareback party."

"Oh, they thought BB stood for body builder."

And then Brian was laughing, really laughing like he'd never found anything quite so funny.

"You're such an asshole," Justin tried to complain but he was smiling too because when Brian really laughed it was contagious.

"I'm just disappointed I didn't get to see their faces," Brian chuckled. "I bet that was a _real _let down."

"Mm," Justin frowned.

"So," Brian said, after he'd composed himself enough to pick up a folk and poke tentatively at the food. "What are we having?"

"Chicken in piri piri sauce," Justin smiled. "Careful, it's spicy."

"Uh-huh," Brian nodded, cutting off a piece and tasting it. "It's got a kick."

"You should see what's for desert."

"Oh?" Brian raised an eyebrow.

"Me," Justin grinned. "You still have to suck me off … in public."

"Babylon?" Brian asked, aware that Justin had made up increasingly feeble excuses to avoid the dance club since the bashing.

"Erm, no. Not tonight. I, er..."

But Brian didn't bother waiting for Justin to make something up before saying,

"Just as well anyway, I don't drop to my knees in backrooms. It's degrading."

"Hey! I do it."

Brian smirked and gave a half shrug and, next second, he was hit in the arm by a torpedo bread roll. He couldn't help smile a bit.

"You know," Brian said calmly, brushing the crumbs from his shoulder, "how about we skip straight to desert? We can come back to the main course after."

Justin just smiled and said, "I have heard it's beneficial for one's digestive system to eat desert before a main course."

"Well, then," Brian said, getting to his feet and leaning against the table, "for the sake of your long-term health, I suggest you drop your pants immediately."


	25. Episode 204

**So, I feel so bad but I did NOT neglect this story or the readers of it. However, my laptop did neglect me. I took it, coughing and spluttering to a computer doctor and now it's back with a vengeance!! To celebrate I thought I'd post a chapter. I do have lots of work on though so it looks like I might not be able to post for another week or so. So I'm gonna post two chapters today as a peace offering (and because one is quite short - okay, very short)! Hope it's enough…**

* * *

_Set between the moment Justin tells Brian he's not going to Gay pride - and them being at pride!_

_oOoOo_

They'd sat up talking for a long time last night and it had been tough for both of them. Brian felt like the whole process of getting Justin back to normal had shot backwards like a stretched spring. It was like he'd been playing snakes and ladders and on square ninety-nine they'd landed on that fat, fucking snake and slid all the way back to square seven. Justin even had a nightmare. He hadn't had one of those for ages. He said he relived the moment in the aids hospice again, except this time Hobbs had attacked him with his broom. However ridiculous it sounded in the warm light of the day, at night, with only that cold blue light to guide them. It had seemed more intense. Brian's 'try to forget about it' had only got them so far and when Justin had finally gone to sleep for the second time, Brian had made phone calls and thrown money around until Hobbs was moved to a more suitable place to continue his community service. Brian got a sick satisfaction knowing that Hobbs was now scrubbing public toilets for his community service. Of course he was still getting off lightly. He'd almost killed Justin. He should have been rotting in prison but that was over now. At least the judge was still suffering, he still walked around with a donut cushion and sometimes, Brian thought that revenge was just too sweet.

But now, it was eight o'clock and Brian was dressed ready to pull his pick of horny queers at pride, whilst Justin was still in bed, refusing to get up or get dressed or even open his eyes.

"I told you, I don't want to go."

"You don't wanna miss your first pride, do you?" Brian demanded. He'd tried being nice and it wasn't working. "You'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"I'll go next year," he cried, pulling a pillow over his head. Brian yanked the pillow away and the duvet and Justin was left shivering in his boxers and…

"is that my shirt?"

"It's a bit big for me," Justin shrugged meekly, "and it smells of you. It makes me feel safe."

"You're pathetic," scorned the older man but there was a strange edge of fondness to the insult. "Now, get up."

"I'm not going to pride," Justin said calmly.

"So you're gonna let Hobbs ruin this for you?" Brian exclaimed. "He ruined your prom, he messed up your hand, he made your school life miserable and now you're gonna let him take this from you too." He marched off. Justin watched him go.

Fifteen minutes later, Justin appeared at Brian's side, fully dressed. Brian raised an eyebrow and opened the door allowing Justin to lead the way. When the twink reached the jeep, he had second thoughts and tried to run back to the safety of the loft but Brian caught him deftly and dragged him with him. With Justin's blessing or not, he was _not _going to let Hobbs or his own mistake mess Justin's life up any more that it already had.


	26. Episode 205

_Set Immediately after Justin arrives at Babylon to tell everyone he's dropped out of college!_

_oOoOo_

"What's that all about?" Michael asked. Like always, he expected Brian to have all the answers, well fuck if he was going to talk Justin down behind his back.

"Pain management," Brian answered before taking a swig of his drink. He watched the whole scene unfold carefully. He watched the way the men were buying Justin drinks, he scowled as he saw them pumping him full of poppers and alcohol when he was already wasted. It was when a guy leant in to kiss him and Justin just fell against the guys face oblivious to everything that Brian decided it was time to step in.

"Ooooookay," he said, grabbing Justin under the arms and steering him towards the exit. He needed to get the kid home and soon. Justin passed out in the jeep and Brian felt like leaving him there. He would have deserved it. The little twot knew better than to let himself get this fucked up in Babylon but Brian couldn't just abandon him, so he helped him to the loft and let him fall onto the bed.

Justin woke with a groan and Brian smirked to himself. Well, Justin would be paying the price for his wild night this morning.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Brian said in an overly cheerful way. "How are you this bright," he punctuated the word by opening the blinds and letting the sun blind his victim, "sunny morning?"

Justin turned over and buried his face in the pillow. His protests were lost as muffled mumbles into the bed but that didn't stop Brian.

"Excellent," he continued in the same tone. "You better get up then, you've got school in an hour."

"I'm not going," Justin said, before burying his head again.

"Why?" Brian drawled.

"I told you, I can't draw anymore. The Dean as good as told me I wasn't capable, so what's the point?"

"To show you are capable?"

"But I'm not!" Justin cried, pulling the pillow off his face and throwing it wildly. It hit the wardrobe with a soft thud and fell to the floor. He was glaring wildly at Brian now. "D'you know how long I can draw for before my hand turns into a claw?"

Brian drew his lips into his mouth. He could see Justin's expression, it was upset, desperate but above all determined. Brian knew that there was no way he would be able to get through to him while he was like this, so he just indulged the bratty queen out.

"How long?" he asked.

"Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! And then I need a rest. I just have to face it. My art career's over."

"Well if you walk around with that attitude," Brian frowned.

"What?" Justin snapped.

Brian took a deep breath and sighed heavily before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"When I was 24, I got a job designing adverts at this big company…"

"So?"

"… I had all these great ideas in my head but every time I presented one, the boss shot me down."

"What has this got to do with anything?"

"I didn't give up, I kept trying until eventually…"

"Wait," Justin interrupted. "Let me guess, the great Kinney persevered until he came up with a campaign the boss loved. Wow," he scorned, "what a hero? Should we swathe you in spandex and toss you from a high building?"

Brian stared at Justin for a moment and then shrugged and stood up. The kid was acting like a complete brat and Brian couldn't be bothered with it anymore. He missed the real Justin, the one who wasn't bitter when things went wrong; the one who kept fighting no matter what the odds. The one who'd fought so hard to be in this bed.

Brian lifted his briefcase and said with a sad kind of quiet tone,

"I'll see you later."

_Set after work the day Brian see's the computer to help Justin draw!_

oOoOo

When Brian had got back from work, Justin had been on the way out. He was going to Daphne's and Brian was almost relieved. He hoped Daphne would be able to get through to the kid in a way that he hadn't and it gave him time to set up the computer.

He'd been naïve to think that Justin would feel better when he got back to the flat that evening. The kid had been completely wasted yet again. When Brian had shown him the gift, Justin had nearly lost it and when he'd found the twink passed out on his bed from a mixture of stress, exhaustion and alcohol, Brian decided it was time to act in a different way. He needed a new course of action. He needed someone subtle, who could show Justin that things weren't as terrible as he was allowing himself to think.

He went to his phone and dialled a number.

"Low," was all the voice at the other end had to say.

Shit. This was all he needed, Gus to answer the goddamn phone but he had to try anyway, he really needed to speak to Lindsey

"Hey, Sonny boy, it's you're old man. Is you're mommy there?" he asked and then he muttered, "the nice one."

But the only response was, "dada!"

Christ! "Yeah, it's me," Brian tried again patiently, thought the irritated edge to his tone was impossible to miss. "Go and get mama."

"tray, tray," Gus shouted.

"We'll play trains next time I see you," Brian promised. He couldn't believe he was on the phone to a fourteen month old translating baby talk. What had his life become?. "But right now, I need you to give the phone to mommy."

"Mama," Gus said, and Brian could almost hear the proud grin in his voice. He sighed, it was clear he wasn't going to get to talk to Lindsey anytime soon.

"Yeah, sonny boy. That's good. You're starting to get this word thing, huh?" And that's when he heard it. He'd never been so grateful to hear Melanie's voice.

"Gus," she was complaining. "How many times have I told you not to answer the phone? I hope it's not someone important."

"Dada," Gus informed her proudly as the receiver was handed over. Brian was right in the middle of saying,

"Oh Gus, don't tell her that, she'll hang up on me," when Melanie asked who was speaking.

"Awww," Brian moaned, "I told him to give the phone to his nice mommy."

"What do you want?" Melanie growled.

"To speak to the mother of my child," Brian smirked, rubbing it in was too easy and too fun when it came to Melanie. "And speaking of my child, should you be letting him answer the phone all by himself? I mean, it's difficult to have a conversation over the phone with a someone that knows a maximum of ten words."

"Well, I'm talking to you and I'm not having any trouble?"

"Yeah, where's your better half?"

Brian heard Melanie yell to Lindsey that the phone was for her and then the muffled sounds of a receiver changing hands … again.

"Brian," Lindsey said happily. "You never call, what's up?"

"Do you still keep in contact with that artist friend in a wheelchair?"

"Sure, why?"

"I think Justin needs a bit of context when it comes to his hand."

"You know, that's an excellent idea. She's having a exhibit this week, I could take him down tomorrow?"

"Great, thanks Linds."


	27. Episode 206

_This is set at the end of episode 205 (when Justin decided to use the computer to draw Brian) but continues up to and intertwined with 206_

_oOoOo_

Brian looked at the clock and frowned. It was getting late and there was still no hint that Justin was coming to bed. It wouldn't do the kid any good to just sit moping about his hand all night. Brian sat up and rolled out of the bed. He went towards the kitchen, needing an excuse other than 'I wanted to check up on you' to be out of bed. He got a glass, filled it with water and then looked over to the table near the television. There was Justin, tongue sticking out slightly, as he moved his hand across the computer. He was drawing. Brian walked over and sat on the chair nearby. He didn't say a word. Justin looked up with an expression that begged Brian not to mention it and the older man, of course, did as the twink wanted.

"I thought you might be thirsty," Brian said, putting his glass near Justin's elbow. "Come to bed when you've finished." And with that he got up and returned to the bedroom.

Justin smiled a bit. He loved Brian so much. The way he never asked for any thanks when he did something, the way he didn't rub it in when he was right. The way he looked out for Justin and the way he always knew what was right for him, even if sometimes his methods were a little unorthodox. Justin looked down at his painting and smiled. He was going to sum all that up in this picture.

Over the weekend, Justin created a load more pictures and when Monday came around, he was ready for PIFA. Brian stood holding the elevator door bitching at him for being late.

"What difference does it make to you?" Justin asked, packing his new drawings into a folder and putting it in a bag.

"Well, I don't wanna be late for work because I've had to give _you _a goddamn lift. Get a move on."

Justin did hurry then. "You know," he said, swinging the bag over his shoulder and stepping into the elevator, "the dean could just tell me to fuck off today."

"Why would he do that?" Brian asked, looking at the dip of skin in the shape of the 'hold doors' sign that was pressed into his thumb because he'd been holding to button down so long.

"He might not like that I'm using a computer."

"Who gives a fuck what he likes. You're the artist, make him see that it's worth keeping you."

"I'm scared."

"You're good," Brian stated factually. Justin beamed then and kissed him suddenly. Brian smiled into it and they were still making out like teenagers when they got to the ground floor.

Brian was back outside PIFA, before college ended. He'd promised Justin he would be there so he'd taken the afternoon off much to the dismay of his boss. Not that Brian cared, his job was safe, he knew that. He'd been waiting almost ten minutes before the first few students began to filter out of the building and Brian pulled his sunglasses off so he could see better, internally kicking himself for being quite so keen to find out what had happened.

He spotted Justin eventually. He was talking with some girl and he looked happy enough but Brian knew Justin wouldn't have cried or looked miserable even if he had been rejected. He saw Justin look up and spot the jeep and he watched as he said goodbye to the girl and strolled over. His face was expressionless and Brian couldn't read him at all. He had no idea how it had gone.

The car door opened and Justin slid into the seat,

"Alright," he said, putting his seatbelt on. Then, silence. Brian waiting expectantly for the news. Justin just sat there as though it were any other day.

"Well…." Brian said eventually, trying not to sound too interested.

"Huh?" Justin asked casually, looking up at the older man with a blank expression on his face but his eyes were glinting and Brian knew immediately he was doing this on purpose.

"Did you get in?"

"Oh … yeah," Justin answered nonchalantly. "He was very impressed and said as long as the computer I'm using is always going to be available to me…"

Brian gave a sort of sideways half nod. "I can't see that being a problem."

"… then, I can start back properly tomorrow."

Brian smirked a little, because it was the only way he could think of from stopping him grinning like an idiot. He grabbed the back of Justin's head and pulled him into a searing kiss, which left them both breathless and Justin flashing a grin that was brighter than his nickname.

"What was that for?" he asked.

Brian said nothing, he just put his foot down and pulled out onto the road. "Debbie's invited everyone over to hers for dinner, you can make you big announcement there."

Justin smiled and reached over to tuck a piece of Brian's hair behind his ear. "I was thinking maybe we could do a bit of celebrating first … just the two of us."

"I like the way you think, Mr Taylor."


	28. Episode 207

**Argh! It's that godforsaken episode where we don't see Justin for fifteen minutes and when we do he has one line. In fact I think he's on screen for about five minutes in the entire episode!! It's frustrating but it only happens because Brian and Justin have got their relationship pretty well sorted during this episode … for finding something to write though, it's been a NIGHTMARE! Argh! :P**

**So I apologise. This isn't even long enough to be called a moment - more of a snippet.**

* * *

_Set just before Lindsey's 'party' for her parents_

oOoOo

"Get ready," Brian called throwing a cushion at Justin as he drew, causing him to put a thick, black line straight through his work. It was times like these Justin was grateful his computer came with an undo button.

"What? Why?"

"We're going to Lindsey's. She's throwing a party," Brian searched his wardrobe for a suitable shirt, before muttering, "sort of".

"Oh, okay," Justin jumped up and went to his draw to find a better shirt. He pulled out one with the words 'Breakfast included' and was about to put it on, when Brian grabbed it and stopped him.

"What?" the kid asked.

"This party is _sophisticated,_" his face screwed up as though the word were made of poison.

"What?" Justin repeated, throwing the t-shirt to the bed.

"Lindz is trying to impress her wasp parents by inviting all her friends to a sensible wasp-esque party that shows that fags and dykes can act like boring, middle-class, dead from the waist down breeders if we have to. It's pathetic," he scowled, pulling out a plain white t-shirt and putting it on. "But I promised I'd go and if I'm going through his torture, so are you." He straightened out his outfit. "How do I look?"

Justin looked the other man up and down, there wasn't anything special about the white t-shit and jeans he'd opted for so Justin just shrugged a bit and went with,"plain."

"Good." Brian seemed satisfied with the verdict and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. God knew he was going to need it.

"Brian," Justin whinged, when he saw the older man down his drink and pour himself a second one immediately. "It's the middle of the day."

"I've seen the set up for this party," Brian countered, downing his drink and pouring another. "If I'm going to survive I'm gonna need to be at least a little bit drunk."

Justin's face crinkled a little, "how bad is it?"

"There are flowers everywhere, the punch bowls are full of fruit juice, Lindsey looks like she could have come over on the Mayflower and when I got there, they were waiting for the _harp_ player."

The look of misery that clouded Justin's face was so startling it would have been funny had there not been very good reason for it. But the twink didn't say anything, he just plucked the glass from Brian's hand and downed the remainder of the drink. Brian smirked. He really was having a bad influence on the kid.


	29. Episode 208

_Set immediately after Justin tells the trick from Daphne's party to get lost._

_oOoOo_

"Was that him?"

Justin jumped out of his skin. He hadn't known anyone was behind him, let alone someone who would speak to him. He turned around and saw Brian, he had a semi-angry look on his face as he watched the other kid walking away. A face that said, 'don't come back'.

"Huh?" Justin asked, trying to smile his way out of any awkwardness.

"I said, was that him?"

"Who?"

Brian just looked at the twink as though he were a particularly difficult pre-schooler. "Was that the guy you fucked at Daphne's party?"

"Oh," Justin stuttered. Well, there was no way of getting out of that question. "Er, yeah."

Brian lowered his sunglasses and took another look at Justin's trick before concluding, "he's got a nice ass."

"Erm, yeah," Justin stammered, "he was fine. What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way back from the gym and I thought I'd drop in at see my favourite diner worker." Justin smiled sheepishly and Brian continued, "where is Debbie?"

"Asshole," Justin muttered, slapping Brian on the chest with the back of his hand. This only served to make Brian smirk widely.

"I have to get back to work," Justin continued, "do you want a coffee or something?"

"Er, no," Brian shook his head but he followed Justin into the diner anyway and sat right at the counter so he could continue his conversation. Justin poured him a coffee out of habit but Brian just stared at it and left it to go cold.

"So," the older man said eventually, "what did he want?"

"Who?"

"What do you mean who?" Brian said. "You're new boyfriend."

Justin frowned and raised an eyebrow asking, "jealous?" Before running to pick up an order and take it to a table.

"Don't be ridiculous," Brian snapped, swivelling in his chair so he was always facing the kid, wherever he went in the diner . He waited until Justin was at the furthest point away from him then shouted, "I just wanted to be sure of our rules seeing as you fucked that guy yesterday and…."

Justin was at his side quicker than fag to a half price shoe sale.

"Keep your voice down," he hissed, cutting him off.

"What?" Brian asked, with a butter wouldn't melt smile that made Justin's traitorous heart do a flutter of love.

"I don't want the whole diner knowing who I fuck."

Brian raised an eyebrow and Justin knew he was replaying the countless times he and Justin had fucked in public. It was clear Justin didn't give a shit who knew about who his was fucking.

"Fine," Justin sighed. "I don't want them knowing we have rules. And I don't want them knowing I broke one." He sighed again, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"For kissing him or for seeing him again?"Justin shut his eyes tight for a moment and when they opened they were fixed right on Brian's.

"I just…."

"It's okay," Brian cut in. "He was a virgin, you felt bad, you kissed him. And, because he's a virgin, he stalked you." Brian smirked a little, "don't worry I know the type."

Justin smiled and pushed the older man playfully in the shoulder. Brian leant in close to him then, so their lips were just inches apart before saying in a hushed voice,

"and," he smiled, "I have a soft spot for virgins too."

Justin grinned even wider and Brian decided he had to kiss the grin away because if Justin continued to look at him like that he'd have to rip all his clothes off and fuck him right there; and he thought Debbie would probably have something to say about that. When they broke apart Brian said,

"I'll see you later."

"Later," Justin nodded, as the older man got up to leave, pushing his sunglasses onto his face.

As Brian left the diner, Justin sighed heavily. Even though he knew Brian forgave him, the guilt was still eating him inside. He'd made up the rules to protect himself, so that he could know for sure that he was different from the others and then, at the first turn, he'd broken them. Brian would never have done that. He never broke a promise because he never made promises he couldn't keep.

"You okay, Sunshine?" Justin looked up to see Debbie smiling kindly at him. It was the face all mothers pull when they know you need to talk about didn't feel like talking so he just nodded.

Debbie shrugged and was about to walk off when Justin blurted, "did he look angry to you?"

"No more than usually, why? You done something to piss him off?"

"I don't know," Justin sighed, looking at the floor again. "Maybe."

"Has this got something to do with your enforced extra-curricular policy?"

Justin gave a week smile and blushed a little embarrassedly.

"Look, Sunshine, I know that chasing hot guys in Babylon is fun and exciting but don't forget that all couples need _some_ nights just for themselves, so they can be together, without anyone else getting in the way."

Justin nodded.

"Right," Debbie smiled, running her fingers through his hair gently. "Now," she said more sternly, "get back to work before I kick your ass so hard you wont be taking anything up their for a month."

Justin had gone through the rest of the day on autopilot. He'd worked at the diner, he'd got the most tips by wiggling his ass a little as he walked, he'd packed up and he'd gone home. That was just like any other day. Brian had been getting ready to go to Babylon when he got back, so Justin took a shower and got ready too. That was just like any other day. They rode to the club in the jeep and Brian parked it in the same place as always so that Michael would be able to find it when he drove them both back to the loft later. It was all just like any other day.

Brian put his arm around Justin's shoulders as they walked through the entrance to Babylon and then removed the contact when they got inside. Then they walked to the balcony part and looked over the thronging mass of hairless, shirtless bodies. They could have any of them. Justin could have any of them. There were a couple of reasons for that. One was that he was the perfect twink, two was that he had a great ass and three was because most of the Gay Pittsburgh wanted to fuck the kid that Kinney was so obsessed with. But Justin didn't want them, not tonight. He just wanted Brian. Like Debbie had said, sometimes they needed time just for the two of them but that didn't stop him asking the question;

"See anyone you like?"

* * *

**You know the rest … =D**


	30. Episode 209

**It was this episode (and the next one) that really gave me the idea to write this fic. This scene always annoyed me how they left it; but actually, when trying to write more for it, I realised there wasn't actually much left to say. So, I've written what I think …**

**The next one will be longer, I promise!**

* * *

_Set after Brian's mother leaves the loft after discovering Brian's gay._

_oOoOo_

Brian watched the elevator take his mother downwards and he banged his fist against the wall. He didn't know how to feel about what had just happened. He hadn't wanted his mother to know because it was none of her business. At least, that was the party line. The truth was, he knew she was going to think he was going to hell and somewhere deep down inside him, he'd wanted to spare her that. He slid the door shut and turned to look at Justin, who was still stood in the middle of the room looking apologetic and awkward.

"Hey," Justin said with forced humour, "your erections gone down, maybe you should tell Ted that talking to your mother does the trick."

Brian laughed a little through his nose, nodding morosely as he went to get a beer from the fridge.

"Look. I'm _so _sorry," Justin apologised suddenly.

"Don't," Brian stopped him immediately, turning to look at him as he removed the cap. "It wasn't your fault."

"But if I hadn't …."

"It _wasn't _your fault," Brian repeated sternly, taking a long swig. "She's just god-fearing, queer-hating old hag."

"But she'll come round won't she," Justin said with that horrible optimism that only belongs in the heads of romantics and artists. "I mean look at my mom. She could barely look at me to begin with and now she's marching at gay pride."

"Well, don't expect to see Saint Joan marching anytime soon. Unless it's to convince queers to see God's light and change."

"You don't know that," Justin tried to be encouraging as he moved closer to his partner.

"Yeah," Brian said bitterly. "Yeah I do. But you know what? I should be happy. The woman's a frigid bitch. If I have to see her again before she's safely nailed in a coffin, it'll be too soon."

Justin reached out a hand and touched Brian's bicep tenderly. He half expected the older man to pull away but he didn't. Instead, he stayed very, very still.

"You," Justin whispered. He knew he had to tread carefully. "You can't possibly mean tha-"

"Well I do!" Brian cut in angrily, shrugging angrily away from Justin.

"But she's your mother."

"She's not a mother. A mother doesn't drink herself into oblivion every night. A mother doesn't ignore every good grade you ever got. A mother doesn't say she's gonna go to the school play and then not turn up. A mother doesn't 'forget' to make you a meal or refuse to even look at you. A mother doesn't spend her whole life ruing the day you were born because it was after that that her husband started to…." Brian trailed off and his voice sounded almost choked.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped. "It's all ancient history now."

Justin just looked at Brian, he couldn't believe that he'd just unloaded all that. He knew it was coming, the famous Kinney shut-off, but he thought he'd just relish in this moment of pure truth. And then he saw it, the glassy look in those hazel eyes vanished and Brian looked at Justin as though seeing him for the first time after a long sleep; slightly confused but also sort of needy.

"I need a shower," the older man said slowly, "we're going to Woodies with the guys in a bit." He smirked, "give Ted the anti-erection cure," he shook his head, "never thought I'd wanna cure that." He walked in the direction of the bathroom and as he reached the door he called back, "You coming?"

Justin grinned and chased after him.


	31. Episode 210

_Okay, so this is obviously the 'dumpster boy' episode. And this  
bit is set right before Justin and Brian leave for  
Babylon (it goes from the loft right up to the final scene from the  
actual show). I think it's fairly self-explanatory _

oOoOo

There was an angry knock at the loft's door. Brian frowned. No one called for him at this time of night, they all knew he was in Babylon or at least he would be if the sorry excuse for a man that he lived with wasn't _still _getting ready.

"Justin, get a move on you little twot," he yelled as he opened the door and was greeted by, "Debbie," he gave a forced smile.

"Hey," Debbie smiled back, holding up a bottle of wine and prodding Brian's chest hard with the bottom of it.

"What's this for?"

"I thought you could do with the alcohol, seeing as you're spending the night in."

"Night in?" Brian repeated as though the words were acid in his mouth. "Don't insult me with bourgeois phrases like that."

Debbie laughed a little through her nose as she pushed her way passed Brian and into the loft, placing the wine on the counter top as she went. "So what are you doing? Where's Justin?"

"He's taking _an eternity,_" he shouted the last bit loudly so that the twink in his bathroom could hear it, "in the shower."

"He's going out?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's kind of his thing. He goes where I go, sorta like a fucking puppy. Only, unlike a puppy I can't put him in a bag and throw him in a river. Or," he smirked, "leave him in a dumpster."

"That's not funny," Debbie warned. "Don't belittle that kid's life."

"What kid?" Brian asked with a horrible false angelic face. Then, he faked a hugely over the top realisation, "do you mean the one you found behind the diner?"

"Don't try and be smart, asshole," she pointed a finger in his face. "I can't believe you're even letting Justin out."

"Ah, well he's a big boy now, Deb."

"We'll see how big he is when someone tries to strangle him."

"He'll be okay," Brian assured her, leaning against the countertop and checking the time on the cooker. Christ, could the kid take any longer?

"How do you know that?"

"We tried it earlier and he was fine."

"Kinky."

"You have no idea," Brian smiled keeping up his mock politeness that he so often used around Debbie. "Besides," he continued, "I've told him, if anything bad happens he has to call the scariest looking person he knows," then he smirked, "so if you get a call…"

Debbie gave a very fake half-laugh and moved towards Brian. "Well," she said steadily, before grabbing his shirt and pushing him roughly against the pillar. "I'll be sure to leave my cell on."

The sudden action took Brian by surprise. It happened so quickly he didn't even have time to stop it but he didn't look phased or bothered or even shocked. He remained entirely emotionless, looked the woman up and down and said,

"Well, Deb, I'm flattered but I really am a fag."

Debbie didn't even fake humour this time, she just put more pressure on his chest and hissed,

"You listen up, asshole. That kid in the dumpster was nineteen … they think," she added sadly, still angry at the lack of police input into this case. "That's exactly the same age as Justin…"

"Well actually," Brian interrupted, "Justin's eighteen so…."

"Shut your mouth smart ass," she snapped back and Brian did as she asked , though something in his eyes told her he still wasn't really taking this seriously. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded, "there is a murderer loose on liberty avenue who's targeting young, blonde, twinks and you don't seem phased."

"Should I be?"

"The way you and Justin go through tricks. You don't know who he goes home with."

"We have rules," Brian shrugged, or at least he would have if he wasn't being pinned to a pillar by an angry lady in a red wig.

"What good are rules if he's lying dead in a ditch somewhere?"

"Alright," Brian barked, pushing Debbie away forcefully and turning his back on her.

Debbie looked at the back of Brian's head. She knew it well by now, she'd seen it a few times over the years. This was what he did when the emotion had got too much for him. It wasn't just the fact he'd turned away from her, it was the way his shoulders had pulled inwards and his thumb nail was being chewed on. It was Brian Kinney's way of showing he was nervous. She hadn't seen it much in the sixteen years she'd known him. He was usually so confident but she had seen it before and she knew she'd see it again though she also knew she'd never see the facial expression that went with it.

Debbie knew that by the time Brian Kinney turned around he'd be yelling or sarcastic but she pressed on anyway because she knew that Brian was the only one who'd protect Justin and she'd nearly lost him once, she didn't need to nearly lose him again.

"That kid in the dumpster," she said slowly, "it could have been him."

"You don't think I haven't thought about that," he yelled, turning to face her, eyes flashing angrily. Debbie gave a weak smile and reached out tentatively to put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all I've thought about," he admitted, barely louder than a whisper.

"And doesn't it scare you kiddo?" she asked, her hand moving from his shoulder and up his chin so that she could look into his eyes.

For a moment, Debbie saw the truth in those hazel eyes, a primal fear that he simply couldn't cover up with a smirk or a joke or a cutting comment. Debbie didn't think she'd ever seen Brian so open, except, of course, at the hospital on the night of Justin's bashing.

"I'm ready to go," Justin said brightly, finally emerging from the bathroom just in time to save Brian from saying something even remotely emotional. Instead, he leant forward and whispered in Debbie's ear,

"I can't live in fear, I'll leave that to the Catholics." He took a step back and smiled cruelly. "Now if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my home."

"What's going on?" Justin asked as he rounded the corner. He must have sensed the hostility in the air. It was so strong it was almost visible but both Brian and Debbie lied and said it was nothing.

Debbie left pretty quickly making some excuse about Vic or the diner. Justin wasn't really listening. He just waited and as soon as he heard the whirring of the elevator he turned on the older man.

"What was all that about?"

"Nothing," Brian lied. "Now, can I trust you to set the alarm while I go get the jeep started or are you gonna fuck it up and let people break in and take all my stuff again?"

"Christ. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

"There's not enough time in the world," Brian reassured him before making his way to the elevator. Justin sighed and set the alarm It was clear Brian was _never _going to let him live that down.

* * *

Brian had a weird night. Although he'd pursued his own trick, he'd managed to get in the way of every one of Justin's conquests, though he couldn't help feel the kid wasn't trying very hard tonight. And, although Brian was all too aware of the dangers of leaving your chosen trick for even a moment, he still slipped away for a moment when he spotted the kid looking kind of jittery and nervy by the bar.

"Okay?" he asked in the most unaffected way he could manage.

"It could be any of them," Justin said distantly, as he looked over the sea of queers.

"Are you still looking for 'the one'?" Brian mocked. "Teenagers; so drunk on faux-romance they forget that love is a lie fed to them through Disney…."

"Will you shut up for just one second?" Justin snapped.

Brian gave a half nod and held his hands up in mock surrender before gesturing for Justin to continue.

"Any one of these guys could be the murderer," the kid sighed. "It could be him," he pointed to a muscle queen with his shirt off, "him," a twink on one of the podiums, "him," a leather daddy on his way to the backroom, "even him," Justin sighed, pointing to Brian's chosen trick as the man pushed his way through the crowds towards them.

"Ready to go?" the guy asked when he got close enough for Brian to hear.

"Sure," Brian nodded beginning to follow the man.

"Wait," Justin reached out and caught Brian's shirt. Brian turned back but only to peal Justin's hand off his jacket and say calmly,

"I'll see you when I get home."

Justin watched as his boyfriend and a potential murderer disappeared into the crowds. His stomach churned. He couldn't imagine life without Brian but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be worth living. He chased after them, he had to try and do something….

* * *

**Why was the Justin/dumpster boy comparison never made in the show? I felt sure Debbie was gonna bring it up with Brian a couple of times but it never happened! Like I said in my last author's note, this was one of the moments that inspired (for want of a less pretentious word) me to write this fic!**

**I really hope you enjoyed it....**


	32. Episode 211

_Set after the episode - when Brian gets back from Ibiza and the white party.  
__(You know, the episode where Justin decided to stay for the wedding … what a nerd! =D)_

_oOoOo_

Justin's not-so-subtle attempts to get himself the spare ticket for the white party had been relentless, so when Brian had had to make the trip alone, he'd been a little surprised if not pissed. Not that he'd minded when he'd got there. He'd fucked his brains out the entire weekend thankful the blonde twink wasn't stealing half his tricks. And then he'd come home, making a promise to take Justin with him next year.

It was late when he arrived back on Sunday night, or more accurately Monday morning, and he hadn't really expected Justin to be up. But the twink was sat on the sofa watching some generic late night re-run of some show that used to be cool.

"Hey," Brian said, as he shut the door. His voice was a bit croaky. He hadn't spoken for a few hours and he was getting a bit tired by now. Justin didn't jump up or run or cheer, he just turned his head and beamed at the older man. Brian hadn't seen him smile like that for a very, very long time but all the kid did was give a very unaffected "hey."

Brian got a bottle of water from the fridge and went to sit next to Justin, not quite close enough to touch but close enough that the could feel the others body heat and the subtle movements as they breathed.

Justin eyed the water and Brian smirked.

"I think I've drunk enough over the last two days."

"Ah." Justin nodded a bit, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "So, how was it?"

"Amazing." Brian pressed his lips right to Justin's ear and whispered, "I fucked a bellboy called Marco." He rolled the 'R' deliciously and Justin couldn't suppress the shiver that shot up his spine. "He could do this thing with his tongue," Brian smiled, letting his forehead fall against the side of Justin's head and his eyelids shut a little, "it was incredible."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm," Brian hummed. "I've been practicing it. Thought you might like it."

Justin grinned and turned to face Brian. The older man smiled a bit and pressed their lips together.

It was barely seconds before they were stumbling towards the bedroom, losing clothes as they went. They were kissing on the bed when Brian noticed it. It was looming over him from the bedside table. A large white pot with horribly delicate ornate shapes on it, with a bunch of flowers stuck in the top. It looked like the kind of thing you'd find in a lesbian's home or worse the home of breeders.

"WhatTheFuckIsThat?" Brian demanded, his words a little distorted because Justin was sucking his bottom lip.

"Huh?" Justin asked, as he moved his mouth to Brian's neck.

"I said," Brian pushed the kid away from him and pointed at the floral monstrosity, "what the fuck is that?"

"Oh," Justin blushed a little. "It's the bouquet from Mel and Lindsey's wedding."

"And why the hell do you have it?"

"I caught it," the kid was grinning now. His eyes flicking from Brian to the flowers and back again. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"That you're wasting your time as an artist and you should be playing left field for the Pittsburgh Pirates?"

Justin gave a confused smile. "You know about baseball?"

"I had to convince Jack I was straight for nearly thirty years," he shrugged.

Justin pulled a strange face before saying, "I can't catch for shit."

Brian raised an eyebrow. It was too late and he was too horny to try and follow Justin's somewhat confusing trail of thought.

"So this," he pointed at the flowers, "is destiny."

"No," Brian said bluntly.

"One day," Justin promised with a disturbing amount of certainty, returning his lips to Brian's throat . "One day, you'll want to marry me."

"Is that what you're waiting for?" Brian snorted a little, tilted his head back giving the kid more to kiss. Justin stayed resolutely silence and that was answer enough. "You're gonna be waiting a very long time."

"I can be patient," Justin said, pressing a kiss to Brian's shoulder.

"Michael's got a better chance of making a Hollywood movie than you and I have of getting married."

"It's not about chance," Justin smiled, his mouth back up Brian's body. "It's about love." Justin felt Brian's groan of despair shudder in his throat. "I love you," Justin stated, sitting back so he could watch Brian's face as he became uncomfortable and looked away. "And I know you love me." Brian said nothing, suddenly finding something very interesting to look at on the covers of his bed but he did roll his eyes and look bored; it wouldn't do to give the persistent kid any kind of encouragement. "And marriage is what happens when two people love each other."

"No," Brian sighed, "marriage is what happens when Catholics are bored of being virgins." Justin couldn't stop the giggle that escaped his lips. "Fortunately," Brian smiled predatorily as he moved closer to the kid, "neither of us have that problem."


	33. Episode 212

_Set when Brian gets back from the gym (when Emmett and Ted say ALL the  
wrong things to Michael about Ben and Brian sleeping together).  
He gets back to the loft __**after **__Debbie and Jennifer have finished their visit._

_oOoOo_

Brian strolled into the flat to find Justin sat in front of the TV watching some weird cable Art channel. The programme looked boring as shit but Brian figured that if Justin was watching this stuff at least the money he'd spent on hundreds of extra channels was just a little less wasteful.

"Hey," he called, as he went to throw his gym clothes into the wash basket.

"Hey," Justin shut off the TV set, "good workout?"

"Yeah … especially in the steam room."

"Of course," Justin grinned. "Was, er, was Michael there?"

Brian frowned. Justin _never _asked about Michael. He wasn't even sure the two really liked each other. He came back into view and started the coffee machine, "yeah, why?"

"Well … is he okay with it?"

"With what?"

"You and Ben," Justin said, coming to sit on one of the bar stools.

"It was two years ago. Ancient history."

"Still, it's a bit weird. I'd be freaked if I found out you fucked my best friend."

"Yeah, well your best friend's Daphne, so you're safe."

Justin made a childish face. "You know what I mean."

Brian gave a weird shrug and opened the fridge to get milk and immediately found himself having to catch various vegetables as they rolled off the shelves.

"Has your mom been over by any chance?" he asked, trying to force the food back into the fridge, whilst removing a bottle of milk. It was much more difficult than it should have been.

"How can you tell?" mocked Justin as Brian yanked the milk out and slammed the door trapping the food inside. The older man looked mildly proud of himself. "She nearly found your poppers!"

"So? She's not a cop, right? She's a realtor."

"Yeah, but she's still my mom. Does your mom know you do drugs?" Brian raised an eyebrow at Justin who conceded, "okay, bad example."

"Yes, she was," Brian agreed, adding the milk to his coffee and stirring it carefully for a while.

"So Michael was really okay with it?" Justin asked. God he was persistent sometimes, though Brian had to admit that was probably the only reason they were together.

"He seemed fine," Brian sighed. "Now, will you stop going on about it."

Justin did stop going on about it, for about four seconds, before he asked,

"Would you be fine with it?"

"With what?"

"If I fucked Michael?"

Brian just laughed and rubbed his face with his hand. "That would never happen."

"But what if it did, would it bother you?"

Brian tried to imagine the situation, Justin and Michael in bed together and suddenly his grip on his coffee was very tight. No, he wouldn't like it at all but he just shrugged and said, "nope. Anyway, you'd both have to fight it out to be the bottom."

"Fuck you, Brian. I can be a top too and I bet Michael can as well. Most men are at least a _little_ bit versatile, just because you don't like taking it up the arse…."

"Ah, ah, I never said that," Brian stated, downing the rest of his coffee and going quickly for a shower. He'd only just had one at the gym but he needed an excuse to leave before Justin bombarded him with endless questions or even worse suggestions. It didn't really work. Justin hovered outside the bathroom for about ten minutes shouting 'what?' and 'are you serious?' and 'did you mean that?' and millions of other completely pointless questions because when did Brian Kinney ever say anything he didn't mean? By the time Brian had finished in the shower, Justin had contented himself with sitting on the bed to question the older man properly but as soon as he saw the look on Brian's face he knew that the conversation was firmly over and that no questions, however tenacious and repetitive, were going to be answered; at least not about that particular subject.

* * *

**Hey Guys!**

**So, I'm getting the feeling that these are becoming a little repetitive etc. So I was thinking … (I've written up to episode 308 already) but after that, I'll just do the episodes that I really thing have a moment that needs filling. However, to do that I need help from you, the lovely readers, to tell me what episodes are worth doing (I don't want to miss one). Of course, I will do all the remaining episodes if that's what people want but I don't want this to become one of those LONG, boring and monotonous fics that you sometimes get on these sites ….**

**Thanks for the feedback!  
****InconspicuousBunny…xx**


	34. Episode 213

**It's virtually a drabble but this episode had it all!**

* * *

_Set between Justin dancing for 'The Sap' and Justin dancing for Brian_

_oOoOo_

Justin raced through the door to the loft. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were bright and he was grinning so widely Brian wasn't sure how the smile would fit on the kid's face.

"What are you so happy about?" He frowned, jabbing his chopsticks into a carton of food and taking a bite.

"I got a job," Justin grinned.

"Oh?"

"Wanna see?"

"What? Have you got some waiters uniform under those clothes? No wait, you're a store clerk?"

"Better," Justin grinned. "I'm a dancer."

"Sap gave you the job, huh?" Brian asked, sitting back in the sofa and carefully manoeuvring his chicken pieces so that he could eat it with the chopsticks.

"Yeah," Justin beamed, rushing over to the table. "Wait," he frowned, "you started dinner without me?"

"You were late," Brian shrugged. "I wasn't going to let it go cold."

"Well, move it out of the way. I'll show you my dance."

"I'm eating," Brian said, shovelling more food into his mouth to emphasise the point. That and the more food that was in his mouth the less likely he was to blurt out what a shitty fucking idea it was for Justin to become a go-go boy and how he'd rather give the kid _all _his money than see him go down that fucking line of work. Food, Brian thought taking another mouthful, the ultimate gag for things you don't want to say.

"I'll make it worth your while," Justin promised.

"Hmm," Brian picked up a serviette and wiped his mouth to cover the smirk. "How?"

"It's a dance in my underwear," Justin smiled. He dipped his head a little so he was peering up through his eyelashes. He looked so fucking hot but Brian managed to refrain from ripping the kids clothes off and instead said slowly and with a tone that suggested boredom,

"okay. Let's see this dance." He reached for a remote and flicked his stereo on. The music began to bleed out the speakers and Justin pulled of his t-shirt and tuged off his trainers. "I'm warning you," Brian said, putting his food down and settling back for the show, "this dance has got to be better than Kung Pao chicken. That's a pretty big challenge."

"I'm up for it," Justin beamed, kicking his jeans away and bending close to the older man so he could kiss him. "And by the end of this dance, you'll be up too."

Brian just smirked and watched Justin climb on to the table. He didn't doubt the kid's words for a second.


	35. Episode 214

**I take issue with this episode. Justin doesn't seem phased by The Sap's party and neither of them press the fact that Brian overstepped the curfew … hmm … what?**

* * *

_Set as soon as Justin escaped The Sap's clutches._

_oOoOo_

Justin wasn't entirely sure how he'd got home, he was just pissed that when he'd got there it had been empty. He'd sat on the bed, knees hunched to his chest panicking every time he thought a flicker of movement had occurred just out of his peripheral vision. Not for the first time, he went to check the front door was securely locked but this time when he returned to the bed, he left the lights on. There, all alone in the cold, harsh glare of the spotlights, he let the drugs work their way out of his system until eventually he passed out from emotion and exhaustion. He woke early, really early. Five thirty and still no sign of Brian. He thought about calling but he decided there'd be a good excuse, at least he hoped there would be because he really needed Brian right now. He tossed and turned and tried to get back to sleep but it seemed that now the drugs had worn off, all Justin had were memories, foggy but somehow vivid memories of all last night's events and every time he shut his eyes they played like a slideshow or horror.

Eventually, he gave up on sleep and decided to have a shower to clean himself off. As soon as the water streamed over his porcelain skin he felt better. He felt cleansed but it wasn't enough. He needed to take his mind off things and there was only two ways to lose himself completely, and seeing as Brian wasn't here, it would have to be option two, his art.

It was hours before Brian arrived home.

* * *

_Set immediately after Justin tops Brian … SHOCKED-FACE!_

_oOoOo_

Justin's heart was pounding as he lay flat on his back on the mattress watching the patterns of the ceiling.. He couldn't believe they'd done that. He couldn't believe Brian had allowed it. It had been amazing. He'd felt like Brian's equal and it had been the most incredible experience of his life. He felt he'd never been so close to Brian, like Brian had finally trusted him and opened up to him. Justin twisted his neck so he could look at the older man. Brian was just staring blankly up at the ceiling. His face was expressionless and he wasn't moving. Shit. What if Brian regretted it? What if he threw him out? What would he do?

Eventually, the wondering got to much.

"Brian," he said softly, reaching out to touch the brunette's shoulder. The older man flinched away sharply and sat up mumbling something about needing a shower. As he went to push himself onto his feet, Justin reached out a hand and touched his arm.

"Wait," he pleaded. He felt Brian tense under his touch and then relax. He turned to look at Justin slowly. "Stay," the younger man asked, "please."

Brian didn't say anything, he just twisted and led back down. Slowly, very slowly, Justin wriggled over and cuddled up to Brian's side. They just led their for a moment, Justin enjoying the feeling of Brian's chest rising and falling and his heart thumping against his ear.

"I," the blonde began.

"Don't," Brian warned. "Just, don't say anything."

Justin nodded against Brian's chest but when had Justin _ever _listened to a word Brian said.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," he whispered, looking up only able to see the underside of Brian's chin. "It'll be our little secret. No one has to know that Brian Kinney bottoms."

"Not for just anyone," Brian said firmly. "And I'm not embarrassed. I'm a fag. I like sucking and fucking _and _I like getting sucked and fucked."

"But you went all sulky," Justin protested, pushing himself up a little so he could see Brian's face.

"I'm hung-over and I didn't get any sleep last night, I'm just tired," Brian reassured him, looking at him for the first time since they'd fucked. Brian ran a hand up Justin's back until he could play with the hair that rested at the base of his neck. He closed his eyes again but carried on playing with Justin's hair. "And," he added tiredly, as he felt Justin lie back down, "I've got a sore ass now." Justin smiled a bit at that, he couldn't help himself. "You're pretty good at that Sunshine. You must have one hell of a teacher."

"The best," Justin promised, snuggling closer to Brian. He heard his breathing even out and he knew the older man had fallen asleep, holding him close, all wet and sticky. It wasn't long before Justin joined him and this time the rest was peaceful.

When Justin woke, Brian was stood in his jeans behind the kitchen bar making himself some kind of coffee, aspirin hangover cure cocktail.

"Are you gonna drink that?" Justin questioned, rubbing his bleary eye with the heal of his palm.

"Ah, Sunshine, you're awake."

Justin let out a guttural groan as he pushed himself awkwardly to his knees and crawled sort of pathetically out of bed.

"Perhaps, I spoke too soon," Brian re-evaluated. "So, I forgot to ask, how was the party?"

"You didn't forget. I told you it was tedious," Justin lied, using the wall to leaver himself to his weary legs.

"Hmm," Brian frowned raising an eyebrow and taking a long drink of the concoction. He pulled a horrified face, which only served to make Justin wince a smile, and caused Brian to tip out the 'cure' and change instead to the old failsafe; hair of the dog. "Do you want one?" he asked, gesturing to his beer. Justin just shook his head. Brian shrugged and pulled the bottle from the fridge door. Just as he was opening the bottle , he asked casually, "how long have we been living together?"

Justin shrugged, he didn't have the brainpower to think this morning, "six months?"

"A bit longer," Brian corrected, "but for the sake of argument, lets … call it six."

"What are you talking about?" Justin asked, falling heavily into a nearby chair, clutching his throbbing head. "What argument?"

"Well," Brian sighed, crouching down next to the younger man and looking into his eyes, "you think that I've been living with you six months and that I still wouldn't be able to tell when you were lying?"

Justin blinked against the sunlight and the question before asking,

"What?"

"The party," Brian clarified, "what really happened?"

"Nothing."

Brian just pulled a face that told the younger man he wasn't going to give up until her knew the truth.

"Fine," Justin frowned, "but don't freak out."

"When have I ever freaked out? That's your thing, and Emmett's and Michael's and even Ted's and definitely Debbie's and…"

"Do you wanna know or not?" Justin demanded.

Brian looked sharply at the twink. "Yeah," he said slowly, "what happened?"

"Sap, he sorta drugged me."

Justin saw the flash of anger in Brian's eyes but the older man controlled it well as the kid continued. "I think they were going to… I mean they had this sling and they were all taken it in turns to…" Brian's face was murderous but that was his only reaction. "Don't make me say it," Justin whispered.

Brian pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned. "Did they hurt you?" he asked carefully.

"No."

"Did they do anything to you?"

"No," he repeated.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Justin promised.

"Okay," Brian sighed. He stood up, turning his back on Justin and taking a very long swig of his beer before whispering, "shit," under his breath.

"It's okay," Justin said, getting up to touch Brian's arm. "It wasn't your fault."

Brian just stayed silently, staring off into middle distance and drinking his beer.

"You told me not to go I should have listened."

"Yeah, you should have," Brian snapped suddenly, "you should have let me help you from the start."

"I know," Justin replied in almost a whinge. "I'm sorry." It was clear he'd learnt his lesson so Brian just nodded and kissed the twink.

"Anyway," Justin grinned as they broke apart, peering up at the older man through his lashes, "you haven't told me where _you_ were the whole of last night. Fucking a guy so hot you couldn't leave?"

"I wish," Brian said. "Actually, I spent the entire night with Ted, Michael and some old, homeless drunk guy."

"That's an interesting orgy," Justin smiled.

"I wouldn't have minded that," Brian said and then he thought about his cell mates and said, "actually, no that might have been worse. Fucking Ted is the kind of thing that should be left to those with no interest in personality, looks or cock size."

Justin laughed to himself. "People like that exist?"

"Maybe. What about Marty?"

"That troll from the baths, who always offers to suck your balls?"

"Yeah, him. He has no standards."

"For a stud, you can be such right a bitchy queen sometimes."

Brian shot him a death stare and Justin just smiled angelically and said, "so why were you with them all night?"

"Oh, Mikey got us arrested."

"Michael?"

"Yeah. Decided to take his hatred of Debbie's knew living, breathing dildo out on the road and then on the cop that stopped us."

"So have you got a criminal record now?" Justin smirked.

"No. The dildo popped up at the last second, to save the day. It was quite poetic the way things worked out."

"Hmm," frowned Justin. "That's lucky."

"Mmm," Brian agreed as he finished his beer and put it on the table. "Sounds like we both had a lucky escape," he whispered, his arms snaking around the younger man.

Justin just nodded, "I guess so."


	36. Episode 215

**Firstly, and most importantly, THANK YOU (- notice it's a **_**big **_**thank you) to _rickiebeaumont_ for giving me the idea for the first part of this fic. I think you suggested over a month ago but I used the idea and I hope it's how you wanted it to be!**

**Secondly, iiiiiiiiiit's RAGE! =O**

**What a great episode this was! The scene when they're just sat for hours in the diner is so awwwwww. It is the first time Brian says nothing when Michael calls Justin his boyfriend =D. ****We learn that Brian is jealous when Justin and Michael spend time together and not with him … ****Brian becomes his most asshole-ish and then his most brilliant. *sighs happily* Basically it makes me smile all the way through.**

**So, here are my ramblings…**

* * *

_The morning after Justin falls asleep when Brian's angling for a fuck_

_oOoOo_

Brian was finishing his morning coffee when Justin padded into the kitchen.

"Morning," the blonde said anxiously. He had a feeling there'd be some anger today after last nights events; or lack of them. Brian nodded curtly but said nothing as he rinsed the mug under the tap and left it out on the counter so he, or more accurately Justin, could wash it up properly later.

"You're up early," Justin tried again.

"I'm going to the merry munchers' house. They're trying to refurbish they're attic and someone has to look after their son, probably indefinitely."

"Huh?"

"I've seen Lindsey with a power tool," Brian said with a bit of a smile as he slipped his jacket on and picked up his briefcase.

"Wait, you're going now? I thought you said you'd give me a lift to school."

"Change of plan," Brian shrugged. "You'll have to walk."

"Walk? It's miles."

"It's not that far just," he smiled and placed a gentle kiss on Justin's forehead, "don't fall asleep en route."

Justin closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. He hated when Brian was pissed at him. He'd always shroud his anger with compliments and kisses to the forehead or the cheek or that patch of skin behind his ear. He'd rather Brian just yelled at him and get it over with but that wasn't Brian's style. He never just came out and said anything, not I love you, not I'm pissed at you - he just, let you know.

Brian was already at the door when Justin said,

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Brian asked, turning around as though suddenly completely oblivious to any reason Justin might have to apologise.

"Last night. I was just really tired and…"

"I understand," Brian said calmly.

"You do?" Justin frowned because he hadn't really expected Brian to get this creative energy thing at all. He knew Brian was creative in his own way, he came up with endless ideas for advertising everyday but art, comics that was different and he was surprised someone as logical as Brian would get it.

"You used all your energy up with Michael and didn't have any left for me." Ah, thought Justin, that explained it then Brian didn't get it.

"It's not like that," Justin tried to explain.

"Rage," Brian said to no one, moving his arm across the air in front of him as though pointing to a wide landscape. "Sunshine and Mikey's excellent adventure."

"Are you," he couldn't believe he was going to ask this, "jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Brian snapped, pulling his arm to his side abruptly as though trying to destroy the imaginary sign he'd created.

"You're really moody," Justin frowned.

"It's what happens when I don't get my nightly fuck." And then, in the most sickly, sweetest tone he said, "have a nice day at school, Sunshine." He forced a somewhat twisted smile and turned to exit the flat. Just then, he spotted the preliminary sketches of Brian, Michael and Justin wearing ridiculous superhero outfits on his counter top. "Is this what you spent all night working on?" He asked, picking it up quickly and creasing the page a little.

"Yes," Justin groaned, ripping the drawing from Brian's hands and smoothing it out on the countertop. "Look, that's Rage," he pointed at the sketch of Brian, "that's Zephyr," his finger moved to Michael's sketched face "and the that's JT," he pointed to his own graphite alter-ego and smiled widely.

"No," Brian shook his head. "That's me, that's Michael and this squiggle here appears to be you. And for some reason," he chuckled bitterly "we all look like Emmett dressed us," and as after thought he added, "as twots" as though the whole rant hadn't been insulting enough.

"Brian," Justin frowned, snatching his sketch back and cradling to his chest like a baby. "These are the characters we've chosen."

"Hmm," Brian nodded, "and the story's about…"

"JT gets bashed and Rage saves him."

"Fantasy then," Brian growled and left without another word.

"I wanna talk about it," Justin chased him out of the door. "I can't just forget like you can," he called as the elevator took Brian downwards. "I need to talk about it," he whispered to anyone that would listen but as usual, there was no one.

As soon as he was out of sight, Brian sighed heavily. Brian couldn't forget, no matter what he'd let the kid think. It still occurred to him from time to time how close he was to causing the death of another human being and not just any human being, Justin. The lie was he hadn't saved Justin. He'd just watch the event unfold from his jeep, completely helpless and then he'd rung an ambulance. He was no hero and he hated that Justin and the rest of the world were trying to hail him as one. Only Jenifer had really understood but she'd forgiven him for the unforgivable too. And now Justin was bringing it all up again almost a year later and it was affecting Brian just like before. He couldn't forget but he wouldn't remember, so he did what he always did in these situations. He buried it deep in his subconscious and it was lost within him. He'd become brilliant at building up these walls around his heart and with every buried emotion being used as foundations the walls became just a little stronger. The problem with these thick wall now, however, was they weren't just keeping people out. There was one person who'd already breached the defence and was nestled safely in his heart and with the ever thickening walls, that person would never be able to escape his love. But Brian didn't know that yet … it wouldn't be long until he found out.

* * *

_This is set earlier on the day that Brian comes home to find his loft littered with Rage, er, stuff._

_oOoOo_

Brian heard the phone ring but he chose to ignore it. He knew Justin would get it and bring it to him like he always did because Justin always answered the phone, even though it was never for him. It seemed the kid couldn't just let it ring itself out. Brian heard an abrupt click and the ringing stopped and then frowned when Justin didn't appear with the receiver in his hand. He waited for a short while. Sometimes, if Lindsey or Debbie were calling then Justin would have a chat first but when the younger man still didn't turn up with the phone, Brian went to find out what was keeping him.

He was shocked to find Justin deep in conversation.

"Who's that?" Brian asked in a way that was trying far to hard not to be interested.

"It's for me."

"What do you mean it's for you? It's never for you," Brian scowled and then it dawned on him. "Again?" he exclaimed.

"He's got some ideas for Rage and …"

"I really don't care," Brian shrugged beginning to walk away.

"It's not my fault," Justin cried, covering the end of the phone with his hand so that Michael wouldn't hear. "He won't leave me alone."

"Well then," Brian walked over and yanked the receiver from Justin's hand and said into it, "tell him to fuck off!" He handed the receiver back and forced a smile.

Justin placed the phone to his ear before relaying Michael's message of 'creativity doesn't punch a time clock' to his partner.

"Well," Brian seethed under an outer shell of cool, "tell Michael, soon he won't need creativity because _I'll_ punch his goddamn time clock."

Justin couldn't help smile at that. "I'll, er, I'll let him know," he grinned.

"Okay," Brian said slowly. "Now," he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, "I'm going in to work and when I get back," he pointed purposefully at Justin, "I don't even wanna hear the word Rage, got it?"

"Sure," Justin nodded innocently before returning to his phone call.

By the time Brian got back, hearing the word Rage was the last of his problems. Finding his way to his bedroom was the first of them. Every fucking part of his flat was covered in paper, drawings, sketches, notes and ideas and the word that was quickly becoming the bane of his existence was glaring him in the face at every turn. He pushed through the first few sketches that were hanging from some kind of washing line contraption and stood all over the floor pictures only to find that this endless cesspit of Ragian shit continued throughout his entire home.

"Excuse me," he scorned, when he finally spotted the two men responsible for this mess, "but has anyone seen my fucking floor?"

_We all know the rest... =D_

* * *

****

WARNING: The future chapters may not be suitable for the weak stomached or the faint of heart - something horrible is going to happen and it's name is … Ian! Wait, sorry, Ethan. It's name is Ethan.


	37. Episode 216

**Short and sweet … just like me!**

* * *

_Set after Justin's finished with his birthday present. AKA. Kinney's a thoughtless bastard!_

oOoOo

It wasn't as though he wasn't aware it was Justin's birthday, not that Justin had reminded him he just … remembered. So when Justin _did _finally bring it up in Babylon, Brian had been fully prepared with his answer; 'being born isn't a reason to celebrate'. Even as he'd said it, he'd heard it with his father's voice. It was exactly what had been said to him on his eleventh birthday when he'd woken up to find no presents, no cake and no one who cared. He'd never expected any kind of celebration since, in fact, he never even told people when his birthday was, of course Michael had found out because he was noisy little shit and he'd checked school registers.

Of course, Brian wouldn't let Justin's birthday go past without a little _celebrating_. He even wanted to get the kid some kind of gift. He'd thought about some piece of expensive art or some kind of music thing. He'd even considered a weekend away and then he'd wanted to slap himself for being so lesbionic. Justin was a fag and all fags wanna do is fuck. The hustler had been the perfect gift. Or perhaps it had been a thoughtless, stupid gift because he'd suddenly been overcome with a wave of panic when he'd discovered what he was ready to do for the kid.

"Did you have fun?" Brian asked, when he came back to the loft later and Justin was curled up on the couch, with a duvet wrapped around him.

"Huh?"

"Did you enjoy my present?" Brian said as though these questions were a complete inconvenience.

"Oh, er, yeah. He was great."

"And _huge_," Brian smiled, sitting on the arm chair. "So, what did you do?"

"You know," Justin sounded flat. "Just, fooled around a bit."

"Fooled around?" Brian exclaimed. "I did not spend five hundred bucks so you could fool around. You were supposed to have the best fuck of your life."

"Oh no," the twink said suddenly, "he was good, really." Justin sighed. "He just…."

"What?"

"He wasn't you."

"Well, no," he grinned, "I'd be charging a lot more."

Justin smiled a bit but it wasn't one of his signature smiles. It was clear something was bothering him, Brian just waited patiently for the kid to reveal what it was.

"I'd rather have just had you," Justin shrugged eventually. He was whispering because he knew Brian would over react at even the slight hint of romance. And he did.

"Christ! What are you? A lesbian?"

"No," Justin frowned, then with more conviction, "no."

"Well you can always have me. You always do," Brian smirked. Then, seeing the twinks sullen face, he rolled his eyes, pushed himself to his feet and went to the bedroom. "You should really get dressed, we've gotta go to Ben's surprise party."

"So you'll celebrate Ben's birthday but not mine?"

"No, but I'd go to a morgue if I thought there'd be hot guys and free alcohol."

Justin smiled despite himself. He didn't know how to react. Brian Kinney, the man he loved, the man he thought loved him, had bought him a fucking hustler for his nineteenth birthday. Maybe the older man really didn't know him at all. He thought of the violin player, he couldn't help it. That was a man who seemed to believe in love, not fucking. He actually seemed to think that fags could be in happy monogamous relationships. Justin remembered when he used to think like that, before all this. Before Brian.

"I need a shower," he mumbled.

"Okay," Brian said, "but hurry up. I don't think it goes down so well if you turn up late to a surprise party."


	38. Episode 217

_Set straight after Brian promises to take Justin away for the week_

_oOoOo_

Brian had been amazing tonight, hornier than Justin had ever seen him. They'd fucked in the backroom, again in the jeep and twice when they got back to the loft. Justin had loved every second of it. He could just imagine what it would be like when they were in Vermont. If it was as hot as this, he was pretty sure they'd melt the snow. Justin just smiled as the post-coital haze started to take over but just as he was dozing off, he got a sudden spurt of energy and decided he wanted to start looking at hotels and resorts. He slid as carefully as he could out of the bed but it wasn't carefully enough as he heard Brian moan,

"where are you going?"

"To look up ski resorts in Vermont," Justin grinned.

"Can't it wait until I'm not trying to sleep?"

"You won't even notice," Justin reassured him.

He heard Brian huff something but he couldn't quite make it out as he went to switch the computer on.

An hour and a half later, he'd bought and paid for everything, using Brian's credit card of course. Brian felt the twink crawl back into the bed.

"How much have I spent?" he asked.

"Not as much as you'd think," Justin promised but Brian didn't believe him. He knew this was going to cost him a fortune. Justin came from Country Club upbringing, money was a thing that grew in the pockets of middle-aged men for him to spend at will. Not that Brian was middle-aged. Justin was just lucky that Brian liked him so much.

.

_Set after Brian leaves for Chicago and Justin makes the decision to leave without him.  
__(A decision that SHOCKED me, by the way)_

_oOoOo_

"I can't believe you're doing this."

"Shut up, Daph."

"Isn't he going to kill you?"

"No," but Justin didn't look convinced. And neither did Daphne. "Look," he continued, "we've already paid for the holiday. It would be a waste if I don't go."

"You want to go alone?"

"He'll turn up."

"You sound pretty sure," Daphne said, more than a little concerned by her friend's optimism, as she pulled her car out from another traffic lights that seemed to be every five yards from Brian's loft to the airport.

"He loves me," Justin said. Daphne looked at Justin carefully but opted to say nothing. She admired Justin's perseverance in the idea that Brian loved him and from what she'd heard, she believed he did but whether he loved Justin in the way her friend wanted him too was unlikely. She knew at some point her friend was going to get his heart broken. She knew this whole choosing work over their holiday had already cut Justin deep and she had a horrible sinking feeling that if Brian didn't decided to go to Vermont, Justin was going to be completely broken-hearted. Still, she drove him all the way to the airport and waved him off with a big smile on her face.

.

_The next morning after Brian finds out Justin went to Vermont on his own_

_oOoOo_

"Sir, who do you want working on the first Brown Athletics' Campaign?"

Gardner looked up at his secretary as though she'd suddenly grown two extra heads and a few more limbs.

"Mr Kinney?" she guessed.

He continued to stare at her and she blushed and wrote it down.

"I'll let him know, sir."

"No need, Tricia," he said. "He's on his way here. Says he's got something important to tell me." Gardner was unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. When he'd first heard about Brian Kinney, he was all ready to fire him. He'd known people like Kinney before. Good at his job and knew it, the kind of guy Gardner Vance, as a novice in the world of advertising, was more than a little concerned would try to usurp his position. And when he'd seen Brian Kinney, his feelings of concern had only worsened. But now … now he hailed Brian as his miracle worker. He was sure Brian would save his company time after time.

At that moment, Brian strolled through the door as though he owned the place, which, of course, he did.

"Ah, here's the genius," Gardner beamed, clasping his hands together with excitement. Brian raised an eyebrow but he didn't say anything. He wasn't one to ignore compliments from anyone. "Don't you knock," Gardner complained.

"Why would I need to? Unless you're doing that straight guy fantasy of fucking your secretary?" They both looked at the rather plump and very, scruffy woman. "Never mind," smiled Brian, sitting in the chair opposite his business partner and twirling around a little. He waited patiently until it dawned on him that the secretary wasn't going anywhere.

"Leave," he said to her about as rudely as he could manage. Her eyes slid to Gardner for confirmation and as soon as he nodded she left. Brian rolled his eyes. This was one of the reasons Cynthia was so invaluable. She knew when to fuck off.

"It's difficult to get decent help these days," Gardner explained, when the plump half-secretary, half-imbecile had closed the door.

"Mmm," Brian agreed. "Actually, that's one of the things I want to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"I keep my secretary. She stays and she's mine." He said sternly. He was not sharing Cynthia with some know-nothing Gardner had insisted on bringing in.

"Oh, of course," Gardner nodded enthusiastically, noting that request on a piece of paper. Brian grinned. Ever since he'd won the Brown Athletics' account Gardner Vance had become his one man cheerleading team. He was pretty sure he could have demanded anything in the world and Gardner would have allowed it. Perfect for his next request.

"I need some time off."

"Absolutely. When?"

Brian smirked, this was too easy. "The rest of this week," he said, getting up to leave.

"_This_ week?" Gardner exclaimed.

"Yeah." Brian was about to leave when he heard;

"No. Sorry Brian."

Brian turned around and looked at the bald man with pure anger in his eyes.

"We're just setting up," Gardner explained. "You can't go away now."

"But it's…" he sighed heavily. "It's important."

"More important than you're job?"

"What are you gonna do; fire me? I thought I was a genius."

Gardner took a deep breath and let the air out slowly through his nostrils. Brian did have a point, maybe if it was important then Brian could be allowed the time off.

"What's so crucial that you have to leave work this week?

"A holiday."

"Holiday? You're kidding me."

"No. I promised someone," Brian blinked and gritted his teeth a little before concluding, "someone important."

"A boyfriend?" Gardner asked knowingly.

Brian just stared at him defiantly. That was none of his business and damned if he was going to let it become his business.

"Well, I'm sorry," Gardner said, and to his credit he did sound almost genuine. "You'll have to rearrange. This company can't afford to lose you at this time. How about in six months?" He took out his pocket organiser. "July. You can take two weeks off in July if you want, in fact, I'll pencil it in now. And if you leave your cell phone on during the time, well, I might even give you a weeks pay while you're away."

Brian just stared at the man ahead of him. July? That was his fucking best offer. Two weeks in July with fifty percent pay if he could still be contacted. Well, as long as Gardner didn't mind discussing business to the sound of two men fucking he supposed that would be fine but _July_! However, it was clear from the look on the other man's face that that was the best deal he was going to get.

"Wow, Gardner," he replied, every word dripping with sarcasm, "you're a real pal." He turned to leave and just as he was about to disappear, he popped his head back in the office and said, "tell me, what are the snowboarding conditions like in July?"

* * *

**... because I like to believe Brian would have at least TRIED to join Justin on holiday!**


	39. Episode 218

**ETHAN ALERT! *sobs***

* * *

_Justin returns home from Ethan's flat after they fuck  
for the first time. Brian had also returned from the Babylon -  
__  
Oh kinney, if only you'd stayed and done that stupid, fucking picnic on the floor, how different things could have been…._

_oOoOo_

It was a little before three but that didn't stop Justin from creeping into the loft as quietly as possible.

"Justin?"

Shit. Clearly he wasn't quiet enough.

"Yeah, it's me," he called back. He was desperately trying to keep his voice level. He had to get to the shower before Brian got too close. They'd perfected this game by now, Brian would be able to smell Ethan on him immediately. Suddenly, Brian appeared, arms and legs everywhere like a gangly daddy long legs. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and he was unbuttoning his shirt with the other.

"We missed you at Babylon tonight," Brian slurred. Justin relaxed a little when he saw the state the older man was in. There was no way he'd be in any state to figure out where Justin had been.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, twinks were getting free drinks," he took a gulp of the wine, "all night!" he exclaimed. He stumbled a little and Justin made to help him but froze. Brian might be wasted but he would still know Justin had been fucking if he got too close.

"You okay?" The kid asked, as Brian steadied himself clumsily against the wall.

"I'm grrrrrrrreat," he growled. "No, wait," he looked confused, "that's breakfast." He frowned for a moment before pointing a hand vaguely in Justin's direction. "Have you had breakfast?"

"No. It's not breakfast time."

Brian nodded and squinted at the clock but try as he might the numbers wouldn't stand still long enough for him to read them. "What time is it?" He demanded.

"Three."

"Three," Brian repeated. "Three? You've just come in. Where the fuck have you been?" And, without giving the kid time to answer, he continued, "you better not have been with Michael working on Rage."

"You were with Michael," Justin pointed out at the exact same time Brian realised, "I was with Michael."

Justin ran his hand through his hair exasperatedly. Brian hadn't been this incapacitated with alcohol for a very, very long time.

"Michael's miserable," Brian said, slumping suddenly to the floor. So suddenly in fact, it took Justin a few seconds to realise Brian hadn't fallen.

"What's wrong?"

"Ben's ill. He's ill. He's really ill," he was nodding a lot as though to back up his point.

"He is?"

"Yeah, he's in hospital. I had to go. I had to go coz Mikey was there and he needed me. I haven't been there since you were bashed," Brian said suddenly, pointing his wine bottle aimlessly towards the twink. "Made me remember how fucking shit it was."

Justin suddenly felt crushed by the weight of his guilt that had been quickly piling up on top of him ever since he'd walked through the loft's door. He knew his knees wouldn't hold out much longer. He couldn't believe that whilst he'd been fucking Ethan, Brian had been reliving the bashing all alone. He went to sit by the older man and put his head on the his shoulder hoping it would be some kind of comfort.

Brian's head fell lightly to the side, so that he was resting his cheek on the top of Justin's hair and that's when he was overcome by a smell that wasn't entirely Justin.

"You got laid," he said, a inkling of pride in his alcohol-slurred and sleep-heavy voice.

Shit!

"What was he like?" Brian asked.

"Nothing special," Justin lied.

"Where d'you meet him?"

"Just … out, you know."

"Yeah," Brian smiled a bit, the blonde hair tickling his face. "I fucked two guys at Babylon tonight."

And just like that, the feeling of guilt evaporated and was replaced by anger. He loved Brian but he knew right at that moment that Brian could never love him. He'd never give up all the anonymous tricks for monogamy and love. He doubted Brian could even say the word monogamy without imploding from the effort.

"The one guy looked a bit like you," Brian was chattering on. "His ass wasn't as nice as yours though. I picked him up coz twinks were getting free drinks all night and you weren't around…"

So easily replaced, Justin thought. Barely a thought that he wasn't there, it had just been a minor inconvenience on the path to free drunkenness.

"… did I tell you twinks were getting free drinks? That's what they called it Drinks for Twinks. He was blonde, like you … I think. I can't really remember."

"That's coz you're wasted," Justin replied bitterly.

"Mm," Brian hummed.

"Come on," Justin hauled the older man to his feet. "I'll help you into bed and then I need a shower."

After that, the guilt at sneaking off to see Ethan was completely gone, it was like it had never existed. Ethan loved him and that was more than Brian would ever offer him. He didn't even feel guilty about using Brian's place, Brian had never seen him as anything more than a trick. An annoying trick that wouldn't leave him the fuck alone. He doubted Brian had even kept to their rules and if he had, it certainly wouldn't be because he _loved_ Justin. It would be because he didn't want to lose his personal twink, the cute blonde that knows his every kink and pleasure. It would have been about the fuck not about the love.

So fuck it! If Brian was going to offer up his house for him to stay in then he'd take it. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. Brian was completely behind the fucking other people rule. Brian had left that door open for tricks to walk in and out of as they pleased. Justin was just a trick; what was to stop him walking out just like all the others?

* * *

**Don't shoot me! *runs for cover***


	40. Episode 219

**Brian love!**

* * *

_Set in and around the time of THAT end scene - you all know the one… _

_oOoOo_

Brian hadn't stayed at the pub long for the victory party. He'd wanted to be home before Justin. He knew what he was looking for now. He knew exactly how Justin would be. He'd want to rush to the shower like he always did whenever he came in from anywhere. He'd be shifty and nervous if Brian got to close and he'd smell exactly like he had a couple of weeks ago and the last time he'd come in and the time before that and the time before that…

He'd smell like the fucking fiddler. It hadn't taken a lot to work it out. As soon as Michael had said he'd seen Justin with someone, it had all clicked into place. The avid obsession with violin music ever since that show on his birthday and then the obsession with romantic little moments and events. The staying out at night, the rushing off during the day. He'd lost his appetite (and not food-wise). It just wasn't as intense anymore, Justin didn't seem to be as in love with him anymore but Brian knew he was. He knew that if he sat on the fucking floor and ate cheese off a biscuit, Justin would stay with him. He knew if he told him he loved him, Justin would never leave but Brian wouldn't do that. He wasn't going to lie and change to keep Justin imprisoned at the loft. He'd never wanted Justin to be anything more or less than what he was. If he wasn't happy, then he wanted Justin to go and be happy and if that meant being with a violin playing fuck-head, then so be it. At least that's what his brain was telling him. His very logical, very unemotional brain was telling him that Justin had to be let go if he wanted to be. His heart, on the other hand, wasn't so logical.

His chest felt heavy and aching and torn up and pained. He wished he could turn it off but he couldn't. It was throbbing like it was bleeding buckets and buckets from some invisible Justin-inflicted wound. He couldn't believe, sitting in the dark, waiting for Justin to return from the fiddlers that he'd been stupid enough to put his heart in the hands of a fucking teenager. Because, however intelligent and mature Justin pretended to be, he was still just a kid. A kid with hormones and a fucked up idealistic version of love which involved picnics and starlit walks through the park and candlelit meals for two; all things, in Brian's opinion that were wrong with the world. But Brian loved Justin and he'd shown him in everyway he could because he could never say it. Words didn't mean a thing. He had grown up in a family that tormented and hated each other beneath a façade of love. He'd never wanted that. He'd never wanted 'love' again but it had found him. It had grabbed him and twisted him and made him need it and Justin had been the instrument and now, he was losing him. His head could be as logical as it wanted it would never stop his heart from cracking in two.

But Brian's heart was also angry, furious in fact. Justin Taylor, the man who proclaimed to anyone who would listen that he loved Brian, the man who set up rules and regulations so keep his and Brian's relationship special, the man who hailed traits like monogamy and marriage as symbols of true love was fucking cheating on him. There was a bitter, hypocritical irony in there somewhere and Brian's hurt and shattered heart was furious. So that's why he did it. It was subtle, but it was enough. The kiss that was leading everywhere and insinuating everything and then the sentence that halted it all. He'd let the twink know that he knew everything and he was going to let the kid decided what to do next.

Once he'd climbed into bed, Brian was almost calm, at least calm enough. He'd got his anger out a bit so now all that was left was love and logic. Brian turned his back on Justin when the kid climbed into bed later that night. He smelt of soap, he always smelt of soap but he was hiccoughing and Brian knew he'd been crying in the shower. Brian was sure that if the light had been turned on, he'd see Justin's blue eyes surrounded by rings of red. The kid hiccoughed again and Brian felt a shift in the mattress. The next hiccough was muffled by a pillow and was accompanied by a shuddering gasping sob. Brian reached a hand back silently until he found Justin's wrist. He wrapped their fingers together and stroked the kid's palm with his thumb. And that was all there was. A miniscule amount of comfort in the cold dark room. After all, in spite of everything, Brian didn't want Justin to hurt too.


	41. Episode 220

**Honestly, it hurt to write this one … but here we go!**

* * *

_Set the morning after Justin goes back to the loft after Ethan tells him  
to get lost. You know the scene, I'm sure it made everyone of you want to  
__ cry. Brian just silently lets Justin in the bed and puts him arm over him  
and it's just … well, you get the point._

_oOoOo_

Justin hadn't slept all night and he knew Brian hadn't slept much either. The arm that had held him so safely in the past just seemed to suffocate him now but Justin didn't know what was going on. The man who professed to love him had told him to leave and the man who didn't believe in love had let him stay in his bed regardless. Was this the silent goodbye Justin had needed? A moment of closure before the end? Did Brian think he was back for good? Justin shifted a little, he thought of pushing Brian's arm away but he couldn't. He didn't know how much longer he'd have to be with Brian and he just wanted to say goodbye. Brian had given him the choice and now he was choosing.

The morning came around far too quickly and Brian got up earlier than usual. He looked like shit, Justin noted. It looked like he hadn't slept properly for days. Justin heard him pad to the kitchen and he heard the boiling water and the sloshing of milk into a mug. He could smell the coffee granules but he didn't move. He heard Brian's footsteps get closer and stop and he guessed the older man was probably at the top of the two steps up to the bedroom.

"Do you er," he sounded rough. He coughed a little and started again. "Do you need a lift anywhere?"

Justin pushed the covers down so he could see Brian's face and the look alone made him want to burst into tears. Brian may not be the love of his life anymore but he didn't want to hurt him. He hadn't thought any of this would even affect Mr I-don't-believe-in-love Kinney but something about the way he was stood now made it seem like he was really hurting somehow.

"Er, no. Thanks."

"Okay," Brian said.

It was quiet then. Really quiet. A painful kind of silence that's more deafening than the loud music of Babylon could ever be. It was the kind of silence that said more than any stream of senseless rambling. It was the kind of silence that screamed 'it's over'.

Brian took another sip of his coffee and went back to the kitchen. Justin could hear him clattering about, rinsing mugs and putting things away. The noise went on for a while, quiet and shuffling like a hamster in the night. Justin listened to it all, taking it all in. If he was going to try again with Ethan, this could be the last time he ever heard Brian's morning ritual.

Justin listened carefully as the clasp of Brian's briefcase opened. He listened to the sound of sheets of paper being rustled and moved around. He listened to the clasp close. He heard footsteps, louder and clearer because Brian was wearing shoes now. The footsteps got closer and he knew Brian was at the steps again.

"I'll, er, I'll see you later … at Babylon." He looked and sounded unsure of himself and Justin didn't like it. "The Rage party should be good. I've got some great people involved, it'll be the greatest thing Babylon's ever seen."

"I'm sure it will," Justin forced a smile.

Brian gave a smile so weak that his lips barely twitched. "Okay. Well, don't forget you've got an interview at Michael's store at ten."

Justin swore sharply under his breath. He'd forgotten all about that but he lied. He was getting good at lying to Brian, he'd had a lot of practice recently.

"I haven't forgotten," he said. "The Red Cape at ten, I'll be there."

Brian nodded once and sighed heavily. "Well, I guess that's all."

And Justin couldn't help thinking that it really, really was. That's all. That's all it was and that's all it would ever be. That's all … over.

"I'll see you later," Brian said.

"Later," Justin whispered. He heard the footsteps melt away. He heard the door slide open and closed. He heard the clunk of the elevator opening and then the whirring as it began it's decent. It was then that a few tears leaked from his tear ducts and he went to take a shower before anyone, including himself, could truly acknowledge them.

By the time he'd got out of the shower, Justin had worked it all through in his head and now he realised what was going on. Brian was obviously trying to guilt him into staying. He was pulling these hurt expressions and seeming mild and meek, when in reality Brian had never been meek in his life. He'd set up this whole Rage party so that he could be the centre of it all even though the project was Justin and Michael's. He'd had to interfere and get involved. He'd had to give Justin choices that didn't really exist. It was all about Brian. It was always all about Brian. What was best for Brian. How could Brian benefit.

Justin began to question if Brian had ever given a shit about him at all or whether he just liked to keep someone around in case the crowd at Babylon were a bit lacking on a Friday night. By the time he'd pulled his clothes on and was out of the door on the way to Michael's store, he'd worked himself into a dark mood so bitter that there was no way he'd successfully be able to do this interview without a lot of caffeine inside him.

Michael. Fucking Michael. Of course he'd open his big fucking mouth. Hadn't he been hiding in the wings, as Justin's understudy, waiting for his chance to hurt the blonde superstar and take his leading role in The Brian Kinney Show. Justin should have been expecting this kind of betrayal. He'd been a fool to think that he and Michael were finally getting on. He'd thought that everything that had happened with Ben had softened Michael's opinion of him. He'd thought that now Michael was in love with someone else he'd leave him and Brian alone. He'd thought wrong. Michael had just been biding his time. Well, if that was the kind of thing you got for being with Brian, it wasn't worth it.

Justin wasn't stupid. He'd always been acutely aware of the haters in Babylon who all wanted Brian but it hadn't mattered. It had seemed like a necessary part of being in love but he realised now that it wasn't. It was been a necessary part of being with Brian. It was just another one of Brian's bits of baggage along with the fact you'll never feel special or the fact he can't be monogamous or tell you he loves you even though it's obvious he does. With Ethan, it was never difficult. It was so easy to love him and to be loved and the romance was breathtaking and relationship was storybook.

With Brian, it was never love. It was all one way, always difficult and never worth it. The fight was getting old and Justin was getting too old to keep having his heart broken. He wanted someone that would never hurt him. He just wanted easy and perfect and romantic. He wanted Ethan and he was willing to wait until Ethan wanted him….

* * *

**Oh dear … bloody Ethan *shakes fist at fiddler*.**

**Erm … so yeah! Thanks to ABSOLUTELY everyone who has stuck with this fic through two seasons. Thanks to the reviewers, thanks to silent readers - you all rock in equal measure! =D**

**So that's it. It's all over … until the third season that is. Well, until episode 308 of the third season because we have to suffer through seven chapters of Ethan and Justin being a couple *vomits* - blame the show, not me. Anyway, hope you enjoyed season two. I'll start uploading season three sometime next week!**

**LOVE TO YOU ALL!**

**InconspicuousBunny…xx**


	42. Season 3 Episode 301

**Time went on, and it looked like Beauty would never return to the beast … (loved how QAF compared Justin and Brian to Beauty and The Beast). **

* * *

_Set after the infamous RAGE party_

_oOoOo_

Brian had barely spoken to anyone since the Rage party. Five days of near isolation but it wasn't enough. He hadn't been able to ignore Michael's phone calls forever. And being away from Babylon for too long would seriously begin to affect his status as King of Queers. He hated it, this feeling of vulnerability. He felt like he was bleeding from the inside out and it was all because he'd let himself become to exposed. He'd put his trust in a fucking child and now he had to battle the consequences. The invitation to Mel and Lindsey's 'let's throw another fucking celebration for our seemingly endless monogamous munching' party was stowed safely in the trashcan and Michael's endless voice messages had been banished to cyberspace but that didn't stop them nagging at him.

The loft that had once only been big enough for one person felt horribly empty now. It was too clean. It was missing jumpers and shoes scattered everywhere. It was missing a chef. When Brian had come home to find all of Justin's stuff gone he'd felt sick. True, he would have probably bagged them and left them outside the front door if they hadn't been picked up within the week but the empty state of his draws and wardrobe seemed to be a disgustingly ironic metaphor for his empty life. Well, he hoped God was getting a fucking kick out of his pain because Brian didn't remember feeling this shit for a very, very long time. He'd found Justin's keys on the kitchen counter. And that was when he realised, Justin was never coming back and it was time to move on.

When he'd finally ventured out, he'd gone to the diner and he'd heard his so-called friends bitching about him. He wasn't surprised that Michael and Lindsey were the only ones not to stab him in the back but that didn't stop him being hurt. It was after that that he decided self-medicating was the way forward.

* * *

_Set after Mel and Linds disastrous anniversary_

_oOoOo_

His fist was still throbbing. It seized up painfully every time he tried to move his fingers and he could barely do anything. This was bullshit. He felt bad enough for what he'd done, he didn't need a constant fucking reminder. But worse than that, he couldn't even jerk off. Total bullshit. He poured himself a glass of Jim Beam, spilling some on the countertop with his clumsy left hand, and took the glass and bottle with him to the sitting area. There was no way he could sleep. It was gone eleven but he wasn't even beginning to feel tired. He could still feel the fury and the adrenalin coursing through his bloodstream, a part of him still wanted to kick Michael's head in for what he'd said about Justin and then, of course, there was the all consuming guilt that was eating him from the inside and concentrating fervently on his fist.

He'd nearly finished his drink when the phone went. He was going to ignore it. It would probably be Debbie, calling to tell him what an asshole he was. Or Michael, calling to let him know he was never going to talk to him again; it may sound like a strange thing to do but it was definitely the kind of thing Michael would do. Or perhaps Melanie or Lindsey, to tell him how he ruined their party. But he couldn't let the blasted thing ring. He walked over to it and answered and the voice that spoke almost made him choke on the air he breathed….

Justin was watching TV, sort of. At least, he was staring at the Tv screen and there was some kind of movie playing. Well, he thought it was a movie. He wasn't sure. He wasn't paying any attention beyond the blurry movement of characters claiming their lives were fucked up. Ha! Did they even know what it was like to have a fucked up life?

Justin was just replaying the events of the party in his mind over and over again, trying to work out what the hell had happened. He'd over heard Michael badmouthing him but he'd been hearing that all afternoon. It seemed Michael wasn't going to let this go easily. He'd seen the back of Brian's head. Brian's body had been tense like he'd been trying really hard not to explode and Justin heard him warn Michael to shut up. Justin had known that voice well. It was the 'this is your last chance' voice. It was the voice that had always told Justin it's time to stop whatever you're doing and give Kinney time to cool off. Michael didn't know the voice, he'd just kept going _'…and this is the thanks you get for saving his life. If you ask me it wasn't worth it, you may as well have just left him lying there' _and he'd looked up. Justin had seen Brian's fist fly. He'd seen Michael hit the deck but he hadn't understood exactly what had happened. It was still confused in his head as though he was watching it through frosted glass.

"Justin," Ethan called him, suddenly bringing him back from his dazed reliving. "Have you seen Wolfram?"

"Who?" Justin frowned, peeling his eyes from the television to meet the worried gaze of his new boyfriend. Brown eyes, just like Brian.

"Wolfram!" Ethan repeated louder as though that would help. "My cat," he explained exasperatedly.

"Oh," Justin said. "I put him outside for a few minutes. He was driving my allergies crazy and I left the medicine at…." He trailed off, knowing the effect Brian's name had on Ethan. He opted instead for, "well, it's not here."

"So you thought you'd just put him outside?"

"Only for a minute," the blonde protested, noting the anger in Ethan's voice. "I couldn't even see, my eyes were streaming. I just needed a minute."

"When did you put him outside?"

"Er," Justin 'err-ed' for as long as he could get away with. The truthful answer of ten minutes ago would get him in whole heap of trouble he couldn't be bothered with right now but telling Ethan that Wolfram had been outside one minute might been the violinist would never see the mangy cat again. Justin pondered that thought for a second, that wouldn't be such a bad thing. But he could see the fear and concern in Ethan's eyes and he sighed.

"I don't know. It's probably over five minutes. I'm sorry. I just forgot."

"Forgot!" Ethan exclaimed but he didn't have chance to shout anything else, he was already throwing on a moth-eaten coat and running out of the flat. Justin felt the door slam more than heard it. The noise shook the whole shithole apartment. He heard the clattering of heavy shoes legging it down the many stairs and then he sighed to himself. Brian would _never _have run after a cat. In fact, Brian would never have run after anything. Then he shook his head angrily. He hated that he kept doing that. Everything that happened reminded him of Brian. Everything Ethan did, Justin mentally compared it to Brian. Every meal, every time they made love, every movie they watched, every date; Brian, Brian, Brian. But what was more worrying about this new obsession with comparisons was the fact that so far, Brian was coming out on top. Not that that should surprise him, was there ever a time when Brian Kinney wasn't on top, at least on paper? But being best on paper wasn't good enough anymore. Justin needed more than what Brian had offered. He needed love and Ethan gave him love. His eyes fell to the single red rose in a vase (well, an empty wine bottle) that Ethan had bought him. Yes, this was definitely love.

Justin allowed his attention to wander back to the screen. There was some generic European asshole holding up a whole load of American citizens whilst Bruce Willis ran around in a tank top to … oh, Die Hard. So the explosion and gunfire fest _was _a film. Justin didn't really like this film. He was a bit apposed to watching any film with guns in it but Brian had persuaded him one night when they'd been too full and lazy from eating too much Thai food to go to Babylon and they'd needed to let their food go down before they could work it all off again in the bedroom.

"You'll like it, you'll see," Brian had promised and they'd sat down and watched the whole thing. Brian hadn't even kicked Justin away when he'd snuggled up to the older man about half-way through. It had been sort of romantic … sort of. An explosion went off on the film and Justin jumped then chuckled a little to himself. He'd jumped at that bit the first time too. He was suddenly reminded of the party, the punch, and he decided he wanted to know how Brian was doing. He deliberated over the dialling for a very long time. Even a phone call felt like cheating on Ethan but Brian had stood up for him today. He punched in the numbers and the phone began to ring.

"Hello."

"Brian?"

"Justin?"

"Er, yeah. It's me."

"What the fuck do you want?" Brian snapped.

Shit. He sounded really angry. Well, Justin supposed, he had every right to be. "I just wanted to know how your hand was."

"What the fuck?"

"Your fist," Justin persevered. "Is it okay?"

"Yeah. It's fine." Brian still sounded angry, like every word was an insult but at least he'd answered the question. "Look Justin, I'm really busy. Is there something you wanted?"

Justin scowled. Busy, of course he was. He was the great Brian Kinney and Brian Kinney didn't mope around broken hearted. Justin could almost see it now. Brian had probably been mid-fuck when the phone had gone. He was probably at the phone covering himself with a cushion, whilst the trick waited in his bed.

"Not really, just checking you were okay."

"Yeah."

"And to say…." Justin stopped. Even in his head the next bit sounded stupid and sentimental maybe he'd been spending too much time with Ethan.

"Say … what?" Brian pressed.

"Er, to say thanks."

"For what?"

"For standing up for me."

There was a silence for a moment like Brian didn't know what to say. And if Justin knew the older man, which he did, Brian was probably wracking his brain for a sarcastic fob off but none came so Brian settled with,

"That it?"

Justin sighed heavily. He didn't know what he'd expected from this phone call but he knew now that he shouldn't have expected anymore than this. Brian wasn't going to beg him to come back. Had he been hoping for that? He wasn't sure. But he'd wanted something. Maybe a confirmation that he'd made the right choice but that hadn't come and neither had the proof that he was getting it wrong either. So he just sighed again and said,

"Yeah. I guess that's it."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Silence came again as both were too stubborn to pick the conversation back up but both were too scared to hang up the phone. Eventually, Brian broke the awkwardness.

"I'll see you around," he said so quietly, Justin had to strain his ears to pick it out but he heard it.

"Yeah. See you around." But Brian had already hung up the phone. Justin replaced the receiver gently, leaving his fingers in contact with the plastic longer than they needed to be. His last connection to Brian.

Suddenly, the front door flew open and Justin leapt away from the phone like it was red-hot.

"Look who I found," Ethan beamed, shoving Wolfram in Justin's chest.

"Brilliant," Justin replied working hard, but failing, to sound relieved. "Where did you find him?"

"Wandering around on the street corner. Can you believe it? I thought he was gone for good."

"Mmm, me too," Justin agreed, his lips suddenly attacked by Ethan's.

"I'm gonna make you the perfect midnight snack," Ethan spoke against Justin's lips. "Strawberries and a bowl of melted chocolate."

"Mmmm." Justin licked his lips at the thought.

"And Pride and Prejudice is on, I thought we could watch."

Justin raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Don't give me that face," Ethan grinned, placing a quick kiss on Justin's lips. "You'll like it you'll see."

It was probably a good thing that Ethan chose that moment to go and melt the chocolate because it was at that moment, Justin was transported to the loft. Die Hard vs. Pride and Prejudice. Fucking vs. romance. Brian vs. Ethan. Just then, Wolfram leapt onto Justin's lap and the blonde sneezed loudly.

"We should probably get you some allergy medicine," Ethan suggested.

"Yeah, sure," Justin agreed but he much preferred the Brian Kinney suggestion that had just popped up in his head of, "we should probably get rid of the walking flea farm."

Justin ran his hands through his hair and settled back into the horrible lumpy sofa. Brian vs. Ethan; the battle raged on.


	43. Episode 302

_Set immediately before Justin visits Brian_

oOoOo

"Look what I've got." Ethan hung a bottle of wine in front of Justin's face.

"What's that for?"

"We're celebrating your return to the world of art."

"Oh … that." Justin failed to look happy. He knew his dad hadn't had anything to do with that money. He knew it was Brian and he didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, he could finish his education on the other, he'd be indebted to Brian for years and years to come, unable to make the clean break he'd desperately yearned for.

"You don't seem very happy," Ethan noted, popping the cork and pouring two glasses. He handed one to Justin, and clinked the glasses together. "Cheers," he smiled.

"Mm, cheers." Justin downed the glass without thinking, another thing he'd learnt from Kinney, and slammed it down on the coffee table. "I need to see him," he announced.

"Who?"

"Bri- Dad," Justin corrected himself quickly. Luckily, Ethan didn't seem to notice. "I should go and thank him."

"It's getting kinda late," Ethan pointed out.

"It's okay, he won't mind."

"Well, maybe I could come with you. If he's willing to overlook…"

"No!" Justin all but screamed. "I mean, no," he repeated more calmly. "I don't think that's a good idea. He's given me the money. There's no need to push it."

Ethan seemed to consider this for a moment. "Maybe you're right," he agreed.

"I always am," Justin gave a cheeky half smile and kissed Ethan. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll miss you."

"You too," Justin replied more out of sickening habit than because the words had any weight behind them but that's what it was like with Ethan, saying things you don't really mean to make the day seem better. Brian would rather sit in silence than say something even hinting at sentimental. And just like that the war in Justin's head continued; Brian vs. Ethan.

::

The walk to Brian's seemed longer now it was dark and it felt almost wrong punching in the code on the bottom floor of the loft's building and opening the door. He'd taken the stairs so that Brian wouldn't have time to prepare for his arrival. Though it was obvious, as soon as he slid open the door, that Brian had been expecting this visit at some point.

_::_

_Set immediately after that ^^ scene at the loft_

oOoOo

Justin put one computer box on top of the other and lifted them carefully. He hissed a little. He hadn't expected them to be so heavy or so unstable. He nearly dropped the first box by the time he reached the loft door and it was then that Brian stood up and walked over silently. He took the top box and led the way down the stairs. Justin followed unsure what to say.

When they got outside Brian looked around as though searching for something. Then his expression deepened as something dawned on him.

"You walked."

"Well, yeah. I can barely afford to eat, how would I get a car … or a cab?"

Brian winced a little at Justin's confession but he just shrugged and unlocked his jeep.

"What are you doing?" Justin asked.

"Driving you home, you can't carry these for blocks and blocks and if you think I'm walking…."

"But I…" Justin had a million protests battling it out in his brain but none of them seemed worthy enough. Brian raised an eyebrow and waited. "Thanks," Justin muttered and put the box in the jeep and climbed into the passenger seat.

Brian hardly stopped when they got outside the flat. He took both boxes from the backseat and balanced them easily.

"You should probably ring for help," he suggested setting the boxes down on the sidewalk. "If you fucking break it."

"I won't," Justin promised.

"Right, well … later." And he jumped back in the jeep and drove off before Justin could really process what had happened. That didn't stop him watching the car disappear into the night. Until…

"Who was that?" came Ethan's voice and Justin jumped out of his skin.

"Huh?" Justin acted dumb whilst he tried to figure whether the lie or the truth would be better off in this situation.

"In the jeep and what's this?" Ethan gestured to boxes.

"Erm, it was Brian."

"Brian? What the hell did he want?"

"Nothing, he was dropping off the computer. I was just getting back and he arrived with it. Isn't that the strangest coincidence?"

"Mm," Ethan nodded disbelievingly. "Coincidence." And clearly suspicious he asked, "what did your dad say?"

"Nothing really. He just made me sign this stupid agreement that I'd pay him back with interest." Justin was amazed how easy lying to Ethan was. The words just fell out of his mouth as easy as breathing. Lying to Brian had been next to impossible, the older man had always known. Brian vs. Ethan.

"Well, at least he's paying I suppose. D'you need a hand with these?"

"Yeah, great."

Ethan picked up one box and Justin lifted the other. "So how did you know I was back?"

"I was looking out for you. I told you, I miss you when you're not around."

"Aww, that's sweet." Justin leant towards Ethan, awkwardly balancing the box he was holding so he could kiss the other man.

"Mmm. Then I saw you talking to Brian so I thought you might need some backing up."

"He's not a murderer," Justin snorted, opening the door with his leg and beginning the mountainous climb up the staircase.

"I know I just…"

"Thought you'd check up on me?" Justin questioned. He was irrationally angry. "I've told you. I want to be with you. I don't care what he does, it's me and you now."

"Okay," Ethan sighed.

"Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated resignedly. He wasn't going to start an argument with Justin now, not while Brian was still sniffing around trying to worm his way back in. He'd be the perfect, most romantic, most wonderful boyfriend Justin could ever dream of at least until Brian realised he wasn't going to get Justin back. Then he'd relax a bit more but for now, nothing less than perfection would do.

It wasn't until late into the evening that Justin realised Ethan must have seen Brian before asking Justin who was in the jeep. Maybe this wasn't the trusting, loving relationship he'd thought it was. There was a massive fucking lock on the door which wasn't a problem for Justin, the problem was the barbed wire and CCTV camera that also seemed to be keeping him locked in this relationship. It was a battery romance so different to Brian's free range approach. He felt suddenly choked in by this new love and once again he thought the grass might just be greener on the other side. He didn't sleep that night. Once again, he was questioning his decision, once again he hated himself for it.


	44. Episode 303

_Set after Lindsey persuades the GLC to let Brian organise the Carnival_

_oOoOo_

"… and this is the final draft of the GLC carnival poster. It needs to be approved so it can go into production first thing tomorrow," Cynthia said, handing over a file and a cup of coffee to her boss. Brian took it without breaking his stride or saying thank you and continued to his office. "Oh," Cynthia spoke up again, "and there's a young woman in your office, claims it's urgent that she see's you."

Brian frowned and opened the door. To say he was surprised by who greeted him was an understatement. There, sat on his sofa, was Daphne. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. He hadn't really had that much to do with Daphne when Justin _was_ around, now he never even saw her.

"Daphne," he greeted her politely. "You look lovely. Is that a new sweater? It suits you."

"Yeah, thanks," she said but she didn't giggle or blush like she usually did. It was obvious she had an agenda and Brian highly doubted it was an advertising campaign that she was after. He put his folder down on his desk and took a sip of his coffee. "So," he said eventually, sitting down in his big chair, "what can I do for you?"

"I wanna talk to you about Justin." Of course she did.

"Well, I'm afraid you're a bit late for that. Justin's not my business anymore."

"Bullshit!" She snapped, "you still care about him otherwise you wouldn't have paid for his education."

"I was honouring an agreement we made a long time ago," Brian sighed, opening the GLC file. Perhaps if he made it look like he was busy, Daphne would leave him alone. She didn't and if he was honest, he'd have been disappointed in her if she had.

"But you didn't _have_ to honour it!" Daphne exclaimed frustrated as if Brian simply wasn't seeing something that was glaringly obvious to her. "But you did anyway because you love him no matter what!"

"I never loved him," Brian countered immediately but, Daphne noted, not overly convincingly despite his raised voice.

"But you were always selfless when it came to him," she said calmly. She knew Brian well enough to know that she'd lose any shouting match and she felt this was important despite the fact Justin would probably kill her if he ever found out she'd been to see his ex. Very quietly, so Brian almost found his ears straining to hear her, she added, "Ethan's not like that. He just talks about how Justin inspires him. The things Justin can do for him. It's never about Justin."

"_Why _are you telling me this?" Brian asked as though everything Daphne had told him couldn't have been more irrelevant if she'd been discussing Martian house prices.

"Because you should get him back. Fight for him."

"Oh really?" Brian smirked. "What makes you think I'd even want him back?"

"Well, do you?" she demanded and Brian had to admit, whatever he'd thought about Daphne before this exchange, she'd certainly shot up in his estimations now.

"Ethan's a jerk," she sighed, when she realised she wasn't going to get an answer. "A pretentious, arrogant asshole. In short, he's you without the honesty but with added bullshit romance. Justin's a sucker for a rose and a happily-ever-after love story."

"He always was a princess," Brian smirked, flicking over a few of the pages in his folder until he found the poster. It was shit. Nothing even remotely like what he'd asked for. He needed to sort this out quickly. So, in a last ditch effort to get Daphne to leave he asked,"what do you want me to do about it? He wasn't happy with me, I told him to go get whatever he needed somewhere else. If Ian…"

"Ethan."

"Whatever, makes him happy then … fine." He slid the poster from it's pocket and inspected it more closely. No, still shit. No fag was going to want to attend something with such poor marketing.

"See. That's what I mean!" She cried. "You love him more than Ethan ever could. He talks about it but I doubt he even knows what it is."

Brian couldn't be bothered to argue anymore. So he said calmly, "even if I wanted him back, which I don't, he won't talk to me. I don't see him. It's over … so could you please leave. I have to turn this piece of shit," he held up the poster for her to see and watched her nose turn up with disapproval, "into a work of genius."

Then, he scrunched up the poster, chucked it on the floor carelessly and marched out of the office, toward the art department. Daphne stooped down to pick up the poster and chased after him.

"You know," she said breathlessly, when she'd caught up and was trying to match him stride for stride. "When I was in love with this guy, Billy Houser, he totally ignored me too. So, I started showing up everywhere he was until he couldn't ignore me anymore. I kept asking him for favours for things I could have done myself; a bottle that wouldn't open, a bag a chips I couldn't reach on a shelf or," she shoved the crumpled copy into Brian's chest hard, "a poster I needed drawing."

He stopped dead and stared down at the shit poster.

"Just, think about it," she said before leaving. Brian straightened out the poster and looked at it more thoughtfully. It was an idea, he supposed. A good one.

* * *

_Set during and after boring Ethan's boring friend's boring as hell 'party' - BORING! *yawn*_

oOoOo

Justin was bored out of his mind. Sex hadn't been mentioned once since he'd arrived at the most boring party of the millennium. All anyone wanted to discuss was arts and music and quite frankly, Justin had enough of that at college. There wasn't even anyone spouting out dodgy innuendos and no one had not-so-sneakily snuck off to fuck in a closet. There was no one making amusing sarcastic comments and there was no one twirling around declaring things were 'fabulous'. Justin wasn't even sure this crap 'even' could call itself a party. It was like being back at Lindsey and Melanie's lets-make-Lindsey's-waspy-bigoted-queer-hating-parents-like-us party. Except, this one didn't have flowers, unfortunately it also didn't have Brian putting coke in the punch. No! He was _not _going to think about Brian, not now … not here.

Justin had lied earlier that day when he told Ethan he didn't like people. The truth was, he didn't like Ethan's people, the friends he hung out with the boring as shit. He'd rather talk to Ted about number crunching for hours on end than listen to Ethan's mini-fan club blow smoke up his ass about how he's going to win the competition for even a minute. It was boring and it was bullshit … what a horrendous combination! Okay, so he was proud of Ethan but he hated feeling like a proud wife, clinging on to a husband and showcasing him as her own. He felt like a sell-out, just another dickless hetero-fag. Fuck, even his thoughts were starting to sound like Kinney.

Justin had been on his third glass of wine, another example of the Kinney influence, when something occurred to him which he'd never really thought about before. He, Justin, was only at this boring as hell breeder-esque party where they discussed art because he was with Ethan and he wanted to show support for him. Well, wasn't that exactly what Brian had done when he'd shown up the art showing at the GLC just to see Justin's work or when he'd shown up at the prom, just to make him happy. He knew Brian would never show up because he felt obliged to, he'd show up because he wanted to show his support to his youngest friend. But had he shown up because he'd wanted to show his love for the twink too? Justin shuddered as that tiny part of his brain that was convinced he'd made a mistake began to speak up again and the word it kept shouting over and over again was Carnival. Well, Justin reasoned, Brian had _always _shown up to anything that Justin had done since they'd known each other, shouldn't Justin return the favour.

He'd made the excuse to Ethan that he was going to leave. He'd used the line 'no, you stay' when Ethan had offered to go with him and he'd left the party with only one thing on his mind. This was the direct comparison he'd been hoping for, a party with Ethan and his friends vs. a party with Brian and their friends and he was sickened by the fact that he knew which he preferred the second he walked into Babylon and saw the monster Kinney had created. It wasn't even close. The aching muscles in his cheeks that he'd been working all night to keep smiling with Ethan's friends, loosened immediately and Justin couldn't stop the grin that pulled at his lips. He couldn't help laughing when he saw how Brian's Carnival was so opposite to what the GLC would have wanted. He laughed when he saw butthole bingo and the two men fucking and people milling about everywhere with candyfloss and lollies. He chuckled at a pair of dykes throwing rings on to a strap-on and he was proud when he realised that everyone was having a brilliant time. No one mentioned the words Brahms, no one talked about classics or the arts or anything else that would bore him to tears, there were dodgy but amusing innuendos being spouting from every direction and Justin heard the word fabulous being shouted by a varying number of queens.

He'd seen Brian, he'd talked to him and he'd looked totally fucking gorgeous. It really hadn't helped Justin convince himself that he was happier with Ethan. But he managed to anyway. The light in the dingy flat flicked off and Justin began to tick of a checklist of things that were better about being with Ethan. Romance was more important, check. Roses were important, check. Your boyfriend serenading you was important, check. Monogamy was important, check. The other things; passion, lust, want, need, desperation, burning love and obsession … they didn't mean a thing. It didn't matter that he still felt those things when he saw Brian, it didn't matter that he'd felt a twinge of jealousy when he'd seen that trick nestle up to Brian's side.

This thing he had with Ethan was better than what he'd ever had with Brian … it was!


	45. Episode 304

**No Ethan in the episode ... no Ethan in the chapter! =D YAY!**

* * *

_Set immediately before the bracelet returning scene_

_oOoOo_

The knock on his door had taken him by surprise. Ever since he'd been living alone people seemed to think it was okay to just walk in to his loft, then again, people always seemed to think that. He dragged himself to his feet slowly. He was having kind of a shit day, a shit couple of a days fucking a shit couple of months. Justin leaving seemed to have set the bullshit ball in motion. Now, everything was going wrong for him, one thing after the other. He had no doubt he'd go down for the alleged molesting, maybe it was the police at his door. He sighed heavily and pulled the door back.

"Hey." Justin. Well, he hadn't been expecting that.

"Er, hey," Brian answered, leaning against the doorframe a look of confusion etched on his face. "What's up?"

"I heard about your nephew."

"Ahh, that," Brian said. Justin could tell the older man was trying to appear nonchalant but it wasn't really working for him.

"Yeah that."

"I just want you to know that, I know you didn't do it."

Brian laughed bitterly and replied sarcastically, "gee, thanks."

Justin twisted his mouth a little but he didn't say anything.

"Look," Brian said slowly. "If they ask you anything, you're gonna have to say you were eighteen when we, you know."

Justin's eyes went suddenly very wide. "You want to me to lie to the police?" He asked his tone full of innocence and horror. "Well, I just don't think I can do that."

Brian sighed heavily. "Okay, well it doesn't matter. I'm screwed anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Justin was beaming now.

"Huh?"

"I believe this belongs to you." He held out the cowry bracelet a smug smile on his face.

* * *

_Set after the bracelet returning scene_

_oOoOo_

Brian looked at the bracelet on his wrist. He didn't wear it as much as he used to, he wasn't sure why but recently he'd felt a bit weird with it like it didn't quite fit the way it once had, like it didn't quite means the things it once had. Looking at it now, he could only think of Justin. The blonde twink had once again come to his rescue when he needed it most. He remember the whole 'Kip' fiasco and shuddered as he realised how close he'd come to losing everything and it had been Justin, just some kid he was fucking, that had come to the rescue. And now, it was Justin, some guy he used to fuck, that had come to the rescue again. Where was Michael? Where was Lindsey? Or Debbie or the rest of them? They were just stood around protesting, telling him they were on his sides. Words, meaningless, useless words. It was Justin who'd done something about it. The man he barely saw, the man he hardly talked to. And, that's how he knew that he still had a chance with the twink and that terrified him as much as it made him happy.

Brian didn't like the fact that he couldn't get the twink out of his fucking head, whatever he did linked to Justin. Every time he saw someone drawing, every time someone stuck their tongue out when concentrating, every single fucker with blonde hair, even his fucking bed. Justin seemed to be everywhere. He'd knew he'd miss the twink if he left but he'd never realised it would be this fucking hard … and it did mean hard. It wasn't just Justin company he missed, the twink had been able to do things no one else had ever managed.

Brian had never truly appreciated how much he wanted Justin around or how much he wished he was near until it was clear he was never coming back but every time Brian saw Justin and Ethan, he knew there was something missing from what they had. It might be full of symbols of love, huge gestures and roses and fucking violin music but there was no passion behind the eyes, there wasn't the desire. There wasn't anything solid or real. Their so called 'love' was based on childish fantasies that don't exist. It was all lies they'd told themselves. They were trying to live the happily ever after and Brian knew that that just didn't work. He'd thought it was doomed the moment Justin appeared at the carnival, and he'd known it was doomed when Justin returned his bracelet to him. He'd felt that buzz in the air. The passion that was still there; the want, the need. It was more than would ever be between Ethan and Justin because Brian had fucked hundreds probably thousands of men and he'd never felt this pull to any of them. He was beginning to wonder if it was a once in a lifetime thing and if it was, did that mean that, eventually, Justin would return? He hoped so because he was a fall down mess without him, not that he'd let anyone know that, not even Justin.


	46. Episode 305

**I had NO idea where to go with this one for a couple of reasons. One, there's not a lot of Brian Justin interaction and two, Kinney's actions pretty much go against every thing he does and says in all the episodes he's away from Justin - you guys might have different opinions and ideas, let me know if you do; as always happy to rewrite or write a different thing if people think this is a bit wrong….**

* * *

_Set the night of that end scene between Brian and Justin in the backroom at Babylon_

oOoOo

The eyes were brown, smouldering. The skin was smooth and tanned and beautiful The expression was so hot it was scolding him and everything was beautiful and everything was terrifying. He didn't like this place but it was an addiction he couldn't fight. He needed a fix of it but he tried not to succumb completely. He was surrounded by his smell, his perfect body curled around him and then his voice.

"What about you?" It asked. Justin shook his head. No. No. Shut up. Shut. Up!

"You expect him to sacrifice his career for a piece of blonde boy ass." Stop! It was more than that. It was!

"Is that your idea of true love, Sunshine?"

NO!

"True love. Piece of blonde boy ass. True love. Sacrifice. Piece of blonde boy ass." The words kept going, kept repeating but the eyes were hypnotic and the skin was like velvet and ….

"Is that your idea of true love, Sunshine?"

Justin woke with a start. He sat bolt upright and panted heavily.

"Hey," Ethan croaked next to him. "Are you okay?"

"What? Huh? Yeah," Justin gabbled. "I'm fine," he panted, slowly managing to control his panicked breaths and bring himself back to sounding almost normal. "I, er," he rubbed his eyes blearily, "I had a nightmare."

"Was this about the baseball bat thing again?"

Justin glared at the other man and was grateful the lights were off because his face had probably been murderous. Had Ethan seriously just referred to Hobbs nearly killing him as 'the baseball bat thing'? What a fucking joke! Though, he supposed, it did prove there was only one person in the world who'd ever truly understand that particular incident, that particular nightmare. It was ironic, Justin decided bitterly, that the man who'd once chased the nightmares away was now the number one cause of them.

"It wasn't_ that _nightmare," Justin answered, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "I'm gonna go get a glass of water."

"Okay." Ethan rolled over and went back to sleep.

Justin dragged himself out of bed and pulled on some sweat pants not even wasting his time or effort with another scowl at the man who supposedly loved him, the man he'd never once dreamt about. Justin padded over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He sat on the chair and let out a long sigh. He was wide awake now, not even close to sleep and anyway, he didn't want to go back to _that_. He didn't want to have to relive that moment again. He couldn't believe it had happened in the first place. He'd been all ready to yell at Brian and he'd ended up having his heart shattered into fragments. And that made him furious. He didn't want Brian to still have the power to break him like that with a few harsh words. He didn't want to be in so deep with this thing that he still felt for Brian that a few cutting comments could reduce him to tears and a blubbering mess inside.

He hadn't let the tears get to him until he was outside Babylon of course but he'd tried to get them all out before he got home. There was no way he'd have been able to explain all this to Ethan. Hell, he couldn't even explain it to himself. He took another sip of his water, to try and flatten the lump that was building up in his throat. It was helping, sort of. He took another sip and another staring off into the distance until his eyes started to sting a little and felt warm and tired when he blinked. Eventually, his eyelids were too heavy to battle with and he had to go back to bed.

He tried to fight of the nightmare but it kept coming. The words from the blackness;

"A piece of blonde boy ass."

He was awake within seconds and found that he was curled towards Ethan's side of the bed. He looked at the mop of curly hair and the prima donna goatee, the long dark eyelashes and the fact that those eyelashes were brushing his cheek as he slept. Because, despite the fact his boyfriend and supposed love of his life was going through emotional turmoil, Ethan didn't lose a second of sleep. Justin shook his head clear of this thought and instead concentrated on all the ways Ethan told him he loved him. He thought of the roses, the serenades the gestures but then he considered the important stuff like how Ethan missed his art show, how Ethan, with very little persuading had chosen his music over Justin, how all the words that Ethan said were never really backed up my his somewhat selfish actions.

And, in an all too familiar voice, Justin heard the words;

"Is that your idea of true love, Sunshine?"

* * *

Brian rolled over and looked at the clock. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the face of that pathetic fucking twink looking back at him all broken and hurt. The expression tore Brian apart until his chest was throbbing with a dull ache he couldn't name. It had been awful, hurting him again but he'd had to do it. He'd seen the way Justin had looked at him the night he brought the bracelet back. There'd been an inkling of hope in his eyes, a twinkle of a chance of reunification and it had to be stopped. Justin was better off with Ethan. Brian was sure of that. Ethan loved Justin in a way he deserved to be loved and Brian wanted Justin to be happy. He'd figured by pushing the blonde further away and by convincing Ethan to take the job, he could give Justin everything he wanted and needed. A rich, successful, monogamous boyfriend who loved him. It hadn't only been about exposing Ethan as a hypocrite, though that _had _given Brian a sick, power-hungry kind of thrill, it had also been about giving Justin a real chance at the life he wanted; the life, in Brian's opinion, he deserved.

Brian convinced himself it was necessary to say those things that it was what needed to be done. He'd sacrifice his own selfish cravings for Justin to what was probably best for him but all these logical thoughts didn't stop a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own demanding;

"Is that your idea of true love, Kinney?"


	47. Episode 306

**Okay, so I didn't get chance to upload yesterday and this chapter's quite short (and a bit weak) so here's two chapters to make up for it… =D Please forgive me!**

* * *

_Set straight after the scene at the pub between Brian and Justin_

_oOoOo_

Justin watched the flame flickering until it went out. The oranges and yellow, blues of the flame were so mesmerising and magical it was easy to forget the rest of your life existed. Right at the centre of the flame, like right at the centre of his thoughts, was a black smudge, he focused on that until the light went out and a glass of Jim Beam appeared in front of him.

"Er, hey," Justin called the barman. "I didn't order this. I can't afford it."

"Don't worry," the barman smiled. "It's been covered."

Justin nodded, his lips flattening. Brian. He strained his eyes until he saw the older man sat at the bar around the corner. He caught his eye and nodded his thanks before taking a sip of the drink. The liquid burnt his throat a little and he felt better. It had been a crappy couple of days. Brian was being nice again. He still couldn't say 'I love you' to Ethan and now he had a gut-crushing feeling that Ethan had fucked another guy. He took another sip of his drink and slipped the ring on and off his finger for the millionth time. It was just a piece of metal really. It meant nothing to Brian, it meant nothing to him and it clearly meant nothing to Ethan. He finished his drink and slammed the glass on the bar.

"Another one?" The barman asked.

"No, thanks. I can't afford it."

"That guy," the barman pointed but Justin didn't have to look to know he was indicating Brian, "says he's got it covered."

"What? Any drink."

The barman nodded, picking up the empty glass, "so, should I refill this?"

"Yeah," Justin said, sitting back down on the stool. The barman had placed a full glass in front of him in seconds. "Thanks," the blonde smiled. He took a sip and said suddenly, "actually, I'll have a bottle of your best champagne."

The barman raised an eyebrow and Justin smiled his most angelic smile back. The barman just shrugged and disappeared. Justin saw him talking to Brian. He saw Brian's eyebrow shoot up as the barman explained. Then the older man just smirked and shook his head like something had amused him. Then he gave a little shrug and less than half a minute later, a bottle of champagne appeared in front of Justin.

"Thanks," the twink smiled.

It was then that Brian decided to appear behind him.

"Your welcome," he answered, making the younger man jump out of his skin. "You look like you could do with a celebration," and then he walked away with not even an explanation.

Justin just sighed. Why couldn't Brian just hate him like he wanted him to? Why couldn't Justin just hate Brian like he wanted to? Why did, every time he saw Brian, his heart have to beat a little faster? Why did his stomach have to flutter in anticipation every time the older man was near? Why, when Brian had caught his hand at the diner earlier, did it have to send sparks through his body? Why couldn't he just be happy with Ethan?

He knew what he felt for Brian was strong but he didn't think it was love; not anymore. It was some kind of primal need to be near him. The sexual tension was still there but now it was even stronger because there was no release for it. It just kept fucking building. And all this time, he was supposed to love Ethan. Ethan who was probably fucking someone else. Justin looked sighed heavily and picked up his bottle of champagne. He didn't feel like celebrating but maybe drowning his sorrows could be good. He spotted Brian over at the pool table, when he left Woodies drink in hand, and he couldn't help wondering if he'd making the biggest mistake of his life.


	48. Episode 307

_Set immediately after the cut when Justin and Daphne are shopping for cheese =S_

_oOoOo_

"I know," Justin sighed, "I sound like a great big…"

"Cheeseball," his friend suggested semi-playfullly, holding up the object to take away from the insult a little.

"Shut up Daph," Justin grinned but then he saw the look in Daphne's eyes and he realised, she hadn't been entirely joking.

"I'm being serious," she moaned, "ever since you've been with Ethan you've totally changed."

"You said the same thing when I started seeing Brian."

"Yeah, but you'd changed from being Justin in the closet to the real Justin now you're just…."

"Just what?" He demanded, he was not going to let her get out of this with a feeble trail off into silence.

"'It's like Brahms'?" Daphne quoted angrily. "Since when do you say things like that? You're like a character from one of those sickly romance movies we used to laugh at."

"Am not," Justin protested, picking up another type of cheese and twirling it in his hands. "I just, I've never been in love before."

"Ha!" Daphne scorned, snatching the cheese from his hands and putting it back on the counter. "You loved Brian more than I've ever seen anyone love anyone before."

"That wasn't love it was…"

"If you say it was fucking I will shove this cheeseball up your ass," she warned, picking up the large round object for the second time in as many minutes.

"But it was!" Just saw the exasperation on his best friends face at his protest but he didn't care, he believed what he was saying.

"Justin, you loved him and lying about it isn't going to change that. And it also wont change the fact that you still love him."

"I do not," Justin objected.

"Maybe not like you used to but you still think about him all the time."

"What are you talking about?" Justin demanded as forcibly as is possible when you're squirming with that uncomfortable feeling you get when someone inadvertently stumbles upon your darkest secret. He'd forgotten how well Daphne knew him. He'd forgotten she could see right through him like a windowpane.

"You spend all your time comparing Ethan to Brian. It's like you're trying to convince yourself you made the right choice."

"And now I _know _that I did," Justin exclaimed happily. "There was a time the other day when I thought Ethan was cheating on me that maybe I'd made a mistake but now I realise that Ethan is perfect for me."

"Wait, you thought you'd made a mistake?" Daphne repeated.

"Only because I thought Ethan had cheated on me."

"But that means you still love Brian."

"No, I just…." But Justin had no counter argument so he finished lamely, "just no."

"But Brian…"

"I don't want to talk about him anymore," Justin exploded. "I'm with Ethan. I love Ethan." And then he beamed. Daphne knew what that smile was about. Justin had been able to say that he loved Ethan out loud. She frowned, this Ethan relationship was weird for her. She thought Ethan was a pretentious prick with a cheesy sense of romance and a slimy way with people. The kind of person straightforward, no bullshit Brian Kinney would despise. The kind of person Justin, when he'd been with Brian, would laugh at. But more than that, Justin had been so sure he loved Brian right from the beginning and that love had only grown stronger and stronger over the days, months and years. With Ethan, Justin didn't seemed to know if it was love or just romance and to Daphne that only meant one thing; Justin didn't feel about Ethan the way he'd felt about Brian and that meant she had a visit to make.

* * *

_Set between the scene above and the scene where Justin realises Ethan HAS been cheating on him (because clearly Ethan is a hypocrtical knob!)_

_oOoOo_

Brian strolled into his office to find Daphne sitting patiently on the sofa. He saw her but he didn't acknowledge her. He sat down in his chair, pulled the files he needed out of a draw and turned on the computer. When he was settled in, he said casually,

"Tell me Daphne, why is that when Justin lives with me I hardly see you and now that he's living somewhere else, you feel the need to drop into my office all the time?"

"Justin still loves you," she answered bluntly. Brian raised an eyebrow, not because the information had surprised him, he'd heard a rumour that your first love never dies, but because he'd forgotten how blunt Justin's best friend could be. In fact, every time he spoke to her he liked her more and more.

"Is that right?" He answered coldly.

"Yes. I mean, he doesn't know it, not really but he was saying the other night he saw you in a bar and he'd wondered if he'd chosen wrongly."

"That's great," Brian smiled with such obviously forced politeness that Daphne couldn't help smile. "Why are you telling me?"

"You can win him back."

Brian let out a bitter, breathy laugh. "What the fuck makes you think I'd want him back?"

"Umm, maybe because you've been miserable ever since he left you."

"Who told you that?"

"No one, it's just obvious in the way everyone talks about you."

"They only talk about me because there own lives are so miserable. They're all just trying to live vicariously through me. Now," he said, opening the folder and flicking through the first few pages of Stockwell's latest idea for the campaign, "I've got a lot of work so … fuck off."

Daphne sighed and rolled her eyes and Brian couldn't help smirk. Sometimes she was so much like Justin it was scary. He watched her as she walked to the door and as she left she said, "you don't fool me, you know. I know you love him too." And then she marched out.

Brian just turned back to his computer screen. He didn't need to think of Justin anymore he just needed to relax. He went to diner. He knew as soon as he saw Justin in yesterdays clothes, as soon as he spoke to him that the bullshit fling with the fiddler was over but when he saw him at the back room at Babylon that had confirmed it. Justin would never break from the monogamy he held in such high regard. Brian could tell Justin was hurting because he knew him better than he should and he knew he shouldn't care but he did.

Brian couldn't stop looking at Justin as they both stood there and Justin couldn't keep his eyes off Brian and in the look in those blue eyes, Brian realised Daphne was right. Justin did still love him and Brian did want him back.


	49. Episode 308

**HEYAAAA! Okay, so this is the moment you say you've been waiting for - THE REUNION! I'm a little concerned it's not going to be what you wanted BUUUUUT, I think you should all let me off if it's not as it my BIRTHDAYYYY! =D =D Woohoo!**

**Pen-blwydd Hapus i fi! =D**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_Set immediately (well, not quite immediately) after the episode finishes!_

_oOoOo_

They fucked for ages in the office, trying to drag out the sensations as long as possible but now Justin was sat in the corner of the room, fully dressed, whilst Brian finished off some work that needed to be done by tomorrow. Brian had already offered Justin a lift back to Daphne's and the younger man had accepted but they both knew there was no way that he was going to Daphne's tonight. He'd end up in the loft and they'd fuck all goddamn night.

And that was exactly what happened.

::

It was ten o'clock that evening when the first disturbance from the outside world came. It arrived in the form of a phone call to Justin's cell. The younger man dragged himself, lazy, sated and totally spent, towards his pile of clothes and routed through them until he found the object of his discomfort.

"Hello," he answered.

"Oh. You're alive then!" was all the other person shouted.

"Daphne," he sighed, partly as an explanation to Brian and partly because he really didn't know what else to say.

"Yes, Daphne," she cried. "You're housemate and former best friend."

"Former?"

"I've been worried sick about you. Where the hell are you?"

"Er, Brian's," he answered and immediately held the phone from his ear as she let out the loudest, weirdest scream-cheer-laugh noise Justin had ever heard. He winced at the crackly sound and his eyes immediately flicked to Brian. It was obvious from the look on the older man's face that he could hear everything, even when Daphne started shouting,

"Oh my god! You did it! It worked! It WORKED!"

"Yeah, gotta go Daph, bye." Justin hung up and dropped the phone back onto his clothes. "Sorry about that," he said to Brian, clambering back over to the bed. The older man just shook his head slightly, a bemused expression stretching his lips into a smirk. Justin ignored it and began pressing kisses to any bit of skin that enticed him.

"So was this all an evil plot?" Brian asked, his fingers twisting themselves gently in the blonde hair. "Trying to get ahead by giving head? Hoping for a raise by giving the boss a raise?"

"That's it," Justin answered between kisses. "I'm using you to further my career."

"Huh?" Brian's voice vibrated in his chest and through Justin's lips. "Good boy, use whatever _ass-_ets you have," he gave Justin's ass a sharp slap to emphasise his point and suddenly the younger man was straddling him. The time for rest was obviously over...

::

The second disturbance was at eleven o'clock and it came in the form of a knock on Brian's door. Brian groaned loudly wondering why people felt they had to disturb him tonight of all nights. He dragged himself to his feet, pulled on a pair of jeans and went to open the door.

"Mikey," he frowned and then looking to Michael's companion "and the professor. To what do I owe this honour?"

"Er, maybe because you told us to meet you in Woodies an hour ago so we came to check why you stood us up?"

"Let's just say, you two weren't the only things that were stood … up," Brian smirked a little, as he gestured semi-subtly to his cock.

"See Michael, I told you," Ben sighed. "Can we please leave now?"

"No! I can't believe you stood us up for some fucking trick."

Ben frowned. He wasn't sure what planet Michael lived on when it came to Brian. Wasn't his partner's best friend _always _standing him up in favour of a random trick?

"Why not?" Brian asked innocently, "I'd expect the same from you."

"Well if you haven't noticed _I'm_ in a relationship."

"Isn't everyone?" Brian smirked.

"I don't think you can call that thing you had with the next Picasso a relationship. Anyway, he fucking left you remember."

Justin, who was listening from the bedroom winced at that bit. He strained his ears and heard Ben mutter something that sounded like, "Michael, come on. Don't be cruel."

But Brian had no time for the professor, he focused his attention on his best friend and said calmly.

"Don't you know the universal rule of twinks and boomerangs?"

Michael frowned in confusion, "boomerangs?"

Brian just continued, "it doesn't matter what they do, they'll always come back."

Michael's frown deepened and Justin decided now would be a good time to make himself known. He just strolled casually over in his jeans and came to a stop just behind Brian's arm.

"Hi," he grinned smugly. Michael's eyes narrowed until they were just slits in his face and he glared at Justin. The twink just kept smiling like it was the funniest joke in the world. Even Brian was smirking at the look on his friend's face.

"Michael, don't scowl," he reached out a hand to smooth the lines on his friend's face. "You'll give yourself wrinkles." As soon as Brian's fingers brushed Michael's face, the shorter man leapt away like he'd been burnt.

"Don't touch me," he scowled.

"I'm just thinking of your skin," Brian shrugged, snaking an arm around Justin's waste. No one was under any illusions as to what that gesture meant. He may as well have said Justin's back and I don't give a shit what you think about it.

"Come on," Ben said suddenly, "let's leave them alone."

Justin noticed Ben, unlike Michael, was smiling widely. He looked genuinely happy to see him and Brian back together. Although, perhaps there was an ulterior motive behind Ben's happiness. Justin could imagine that Brian would have pestered the shit out of Michael in the time they were apart. Brian may live on his own but he hated _being_ on his own. He'd probably been dragging his best friend out to the clubs every night and Michael, of course, had no resistance when it came to the Kinney charm. In the Taylor-Kinney reunion, Ben probably saw his life returning to normal.

"Justin," Brian suddenly turned to him, pressing his lips against his ear so that he could feel his breath warm against his face. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

Justin just nodded and turned to kiss the older man passionately before disappearing back into the bedroom.

"If there's nothing else I can do for you gentlemen," Brian said with horrible fake politeness, "could you kindly fuck off."

He put his palm on Michael's chest and pushed him carefully away from his door.

"Wait," Michael said, grabbing Brian's hand and pulling him close. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"What?"

"With Justin."

"No offence, Michael but I've had a lot more experience at fucking than you have." His eyes flicked to Ben, silently emphasising the point.

"Not now you asshole," Michael snapped back, ignoring the wordless jibe. "I mean, taking him back like this."

"Michael, we talked it out and he gave some _very _convincing reasons as to why I should take him back," he smirked. "Now, if you don't mind. I'm going to back so he could give me a few more reasons."

"You're making a mistake," Michael scowled as Brian went back inside.

"Now, now Mikey, I thought you and Justin had made friends," Brian said, the door half shut.

"What if he…" but Brian never heard the rest of Michael's concerns. He'd already shut the door and was on his way back to Justin.

* * *

**Diolch am darllen! ****Thanks for reading! =D **

**xx**


	50. Episode 309

_Set after the scene at the beginning of the show in Babylon_

_oOoOo_

The next time Brian saw Michael, they were at Babylon. Justin was already in the corvette waiting to go back to Daphne's and Brian was getting their coats.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Michael hissed in his ear. Brian took a deep breath and turned to look at his friend.

"Ah, Michael," he grinned forcedly, "and how are you this lovely evening?"

"I said I hope you know what you're doing. What if he…?"

"Michael," Brian interrupted immediately. He didn't want to hear anything Michael or anyone else had to say on the matter. It wouldn't be anything he hadn't been running through his head since he'd first seen Justin at Vanguard. Brian had had no doubts at that moment that Justin was there for him as much as the work experience and he'd churned it all over in his head until he'd realised that if he didn't take Justin back, he'd only be hurting himself and Justin. Truth was, he'd been miserable without the twink. Why risk being miserable forever just because a nineteen year old kid had made a mistake. Brian couldn't remember the amount of mistakes he'd made as a nineteen year old.

"But this is important," Michael insisted. "All he did was use you. He took from you. He spent all your money and he…"

"Michael!" Brian interrupted angrily. "Shut up."

"But…"

"How is your eye?" Brian suddenly asked, his thumb tracing over the former black eye gently. Michael scowled. There was no doubt of the not-so-subtle threat that had been offered.

"You wouldn't," Michael gasped.

"No," Brian agreed. "But neither would you," he reasoned, "except … what would you do if someone told you Ben was better off dead? Or that you were better off without him?"

Brian didn't say anything else and Michael was too stunned to form any words. He just watched his friend leave and with a suddenly odd feeling, he felt like he and Brian were growing desperately apart. Now that they both had someone else to love more than they loved each other, it was as though their lives were drifting in different directions.

* * *

_Set the night of the above scene_

oOoOo

"Will you stop worrying," Ben complained, when Michael turned over, curling the duvet tightly around him for the hundredth time that night.

"I can't," the smaller man complained. "It's just-"

"Brian," Ben finished for him, sighing heavily before pushing himself into a seating position. "What is the problem Michael? It's his own life and if he wants to take Justin back it's none of your business."

"But what if he gets hurt again, you didn't see him when Justin was gone, he was a mess."

"Oh, I saw it," Ben promised, thinking of all the times he'd fallen asleep alone in this bed thanks to Brian fucking Kinney's broken heart. "But now Justin's back and he's happy. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"What for my best friend to be back with the guy that took from him and used him then cheated on him, broke his heart and left him in front of everyone?"

"No, for your best friend to back with the one guy he cares about enough to forgive for all that shit he put him through."

Michael had no reply to that so he just ground his teeth together and crossed his arms over his chest. They sat in silence for a moment or two until, in a flurry of movement, Michael got to his feet and stamped off, with a mumbled explanation as to where he'd gone.

Ben just waited for Michael to return, which he did an hour later apologising for acting like a spoilt brat and getting into bed.

* * *

_Set after Brian is fired by Stockwell_

_oOoOo_

Justin was studying his newest painting as he tried to work out why it was so much better than much of his art had been recently. It wasn't anything noticeable to the untrained eye but as his harshest critic, Justin could see that something had improved, the colours maybe or just the passion that emanated from it. It was the best word he'd done for a long, long time but he wasn't sure why. As he pondered this question, the answer to it seemed to come to him in the form of a phone call. His cell started vibrating on a nearby table so he wiped his paint covered hands in his overalls and went to see who was phoning. The name Brian flashed up on the screen and he grinned as he answered.

"Hey," he said cheerfully, "what's up?"

"Get over here," Brian's voice was flat and toneless, "now," he added and then a long loud bleep told him Brian had hung up. Justin frowned, cleaned himself up quickly and then practically ran to the loft. When he got there, he found Brian sprawled out along the sofa, a bottle of Beam in his hand.

"Are you okay?" Justin gasped, rushing over to his partner. "What's happened? Are you ill? Do you need an ambulance? Or do I need to pop to the pharmacist or…." Justin saw the on Brian's face which seemed to be screaming 'shut up' and he stopped talking.

"This," Brian said, holding up the whiskey a little, "is all I need as medicine."

Justin just rolled his eyes and dropped to the floor next to the sofa. "So what's happened for you to be self-medicating?"

"Stockwell fucking canned me," he growled, taking a long glug of whiskey.

"What?" Justin gasped, though he couldn't help feel pleased inside. "You turned his fucking campaign around."

"Yeah."

"So what were his fucking reasons?"

"I think," Brian said grandly, taking another long swig of his 'medicine', "it pretty much all came down to the fact that I am a fag."

"He can't do that!"

"He's going to be the fucking mayor, he can do what he wants."

"Well, he might not be mayor," Justin pointed out. "Especially if you're not running his campaign anymore. You've said his advisors are bullshit…"

"They're worse than that."

"…so no he loses and Liberty Avenue benefits."

"I don't care about Liberty Avenue, I cared about getting his backers, now I get nothing."

"I don't believe you. You'd rather see Liberty Avenue turned into a police state as long as you become more successful and get a bit more money."

"Pretty much," Brian nodded, taking a swig of Jim Beam.

"Fuck you Brian," Justin said angrily. "You know what, drown your fucking sorrows at Woodies, while it's still there."

And with that Justin stormed out of the loft and Brian flopped back onto the sofa. Stupid fucking Justin, why did he have to be so right about so many fucking things. He was like a fucking conscious just popping up and telling Brian how he'd feel about things if he actually gave a shit about people but Brian knew that this was all just a political game. It was all about making a point. Woodies had been shut one night just to make a point to the voting public that there was going to be a cut down on that kind of behaviour. Politics was all over dramatic statements and Brian understood them but it was over now. He'd been sacked and maybe it was for the best for Liberty Avenue but Brian knew that if he had the opportunity to get back into heading Stockwell's campaign, he'd be there.

Justin knew that but he still came back to Brian's later that night. He even came over the night Brian told Justin Stockwell had asked him back. Justin still gave him the greatest blowjob ever because Justin loved him unconditionally and he was willing to overlook all the other shit and Brian realised he was truly starting to consider Justin's opinions in everything. He knew now that he didn't want to lose him again and he'd do anything he could to stop that from happening.


	51. Episode 310

_Set after Brian kicks Justin out of the boardroom because Stockwell wants to rant about those posters ruining his campaign. Stupid Stockwell! _

_oOoOo_

Justin left the boardroom, shut the door firmly behind him and looked up to be met by Cynthia's grin.

"Hey, what's Stockwell saying?" She asked with a knowing smile.

"He sounds like he's having a hernia," Justin replied with a grin.

"Are you gonna do more?"

"Yeah, I've already got some ideas."

"Well, if you need the printing equipment tonight, just let me know," she said.

"I don't get it Cynthia, why are you helping me?"

"Because I happen to actually like Brian and I don't think he's really thought of the consequences if Stockwell gets to be Mayor."

"He's thought of them," Justin replied bitterly. "He's worked out just how many advertising campaigns he'll have."

"Yeah, but he hasn't considered what'll happen to Liberty Avenue. I've heard Stockwell's shut The Baths."

"Yeah, and everywhere else you can fuck in public."

The secretary shook her head angrily. "Stockwell's a homophobic asshole," she spat. "Anything you need Justin, just ask" she smiled and walked off.

Justin just grinned as she left.

"I don't know how you do it, Taylor," a voice said in his ear. Justin turned around and saw the other intern, Connor, looking at him in amazement. He liked Connor. He was funny and honest and really talented with a computer. He could edit things quicker than anybody and he knew Brian would like him if he ever paid any attention to what the little people in the company were up to.

"Do what?" Justin asked innocently.

"It's like you have the whole of management wrapped around your finger. How do you do it?"

"I'm fucking the boss," Justin said simply. Connor's eyes opened wide as he stared at the blonde man in front of him and then, he started laughing heartily.

"Which one," he joked, "Vance or Kinney?"

Justin laughed too and answered "both."

"Urgh, at the same time?"

"Why not?" Justin smiled.

"Imagine fucking Vance," Connor said suddenly, his nose crinkling with disgust.

"Imagine fucking Kinney," Justin answered, mirroring Connor's tone and expression.

"At least he's hot."

"I thought you were straight," Justin smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am." Connor suddenly drew himself up as though trying to make himself appear more manly and Justin smirked. Brian could turn even the straightest guy into a raging fag without even trying. Then Connor looked around shiftily and dropped his voice to say, "there's a rumour that _he's_ gay though."

"Who?"

"Kinney. They reckon that's how he lands his accounts, fucks the guys in charge."

Justin shot the other man a ridiculing look. "Are you telling me Brown of Brown Athletics is a fag?"

Connor shrugged sheepishly. "It's just a rumour."

Suddenly, Stockwell emerged from the board room and pushed angrily past them.

"What about him?" Justin asked with a smile, gesturing to Stockwell with his thumb.

"Yeah," Connor chuckled, "reckon Stockwell's bent like a hairpin. That's why he hates you guys so much."

Justin just nodded.

"Guess it proves that Kinney's straight though, huh? There's no way a gay man would help out a homophobe."

"I guess it would depend on whether the ends justified the means," Justin sighed distantly.

Connor just fixed him with a bemused expression and snorted a little, before shaking his head and muttering; "fucking artists," which made Justin smile a bit.

Suddenly, Brian leant out the doorway and shouted, "Taylor, get your ass back in here. You haven't finished your job. And," he looked at Connor with a strained expression on his face as he tried to find a name to go with the face. He didn't manage it, so he went with, "you. Get back to work."

Connor rolled his eyes and muttered, "I can't believe he remembers your name."

"Just special I guess," Justin grinned, going back into the room to finish his job.

"So," Justin drawled, "what did he want?"

"I don't discuss my clients with the interns," Brian said sharply, as he set up a board in the corner of the room.

"I'm not just _any_ intern. I know it was about the posters."

"Yeah, well apparently he doesn't like being called a Nazi."

"Even if he is one?" Justin replied immediately and Brian suddenly gave him a strange look as though finally realising something that should have been so obvious to him from the beginning. He mumbled something under his breath that Justin couldn't work out and then asked,

"so this art project tonight, what is it?"

"It's about expressing opinions in the style of 1920's Russian artists."

"The anti-communism era?" Brian asked, his eyebrow raised.

Shit. Justin knew immediately that Brian had worked out he was behind the 'Stop Stockwell' posters but he kept calm.

"Yeah. Is this it?" he asked, indicating the portfolio's he'd placed on the desk.

"Yeah, that's fine," Brian answered distantly. "You can go now."

As soon as Justin left, Brian sat down in one of the chairs, pinched the bridge of his nose and swore sharply under his breath. Of course Justin was behind the posters. There weren't many people that talented and funny in Pittsburgh to be able to create such a brilliant poster. It had Justin Taylor written all over it, he must have been blind not to notice it before. He groaned to himself. How was he going to put a stop to this?

* * *

_Set just before the photocopier scene_

_oOoOo_

"That key," Cynthia said, pointing to one to the small keys hanging from her lanyars, "opens the printing room. And this," she said, pointing to a more impressive silver key, "is the one for the entrance to the building. Come back in about forty-five minutes. Everyone should have cleared out by then."

"Okay, thanks Cynthia."

"Just, don't get caught," she warned sternly and for a moment, Justin felt a twinge of genuine fear in his gut. It was probably just one of the many reasons Brian liked her so much. She could be scarey and approachable at the same time. She was organised, thorough and everything else you could ever want from an assistant and so much more. Justin knew her loyalty and love for Brian were strong too. She was the perfect assistant, he decided and he promised not to let her down.

* * *

_Set straight after Brian finds that the backroom is SHUT! =O_

oOoOo

The backroom being closed had been the last straw. It had been building for weeks. First closing the baths, then the amount of police everywhere. Then there'd been comparing him to the dickless fags at the gay and lesbian centre and now … now, he'd closed down the backroom at Babylon. Stockwell was taking away everything that Brian loved. His world was being destroyed and he was the one allowing it to happen. Well, not anymore.

It hadn't taken long to find Justin. He wasn't exactly a ninja when it came to keeping out of view. He stayed with him putting up the posters as deftly as they could until Justin suggested they'd be quicker if they split up.

They met back at the loft an hour later. Brian walked through the door and found Justin beaming smugly on the sofa, though he had more sense than to say anything as clichéd as 'I told you so'.

"I do have one question," Brian frowned, as he poured himself a glass of celebratory whiskey.

"Oh?"

"How did you get back into the building after work hours?"

"I had a key," Justin said offhandedly.

"Who's?"

"Er…."

"Who's?" Brian demanded.

"Cynthia's," Justin admitted mutedly, dropping his head and staring at his lap.

"Cynthia, huh?" Brian seemed to think for a second and then smirked, "remind me to give her a raise at some point."


	52. Episode 311

_Set the evening of the day that Brian convinces Stockwell to make an appearance at the Gay and Lesbian Centre_

oOoOo

"Sooooo," Justin asked, as Brian came in through the loft's door, "how did it go?"

"He's going to the GLC tomorrow," the older man said smugly.

"Perfect," Justin smiled. "What are we gonna do?"

"Stick a poster to his forehead?" Brian smirked.

Justin just scowled. He didn't know why Brian suddenly felt like he was above the posters, just because he was setting up the first of Stockwell's biggest downfalls.

"I did have one idea," Brian admitted, taking a Bud from the fridge and opening the bottle.

"Yeah, what?"

"I got Cynthia to do a little research for me today," he said, sitting next to Justin.

"And?"

"And since Stockwell's been in chief of police, over 80% of Gay and Lesbian related crimes have been over looked."

"What?" Justin asked in disbelief.

"Seems the homo-hater is as good as encouraging queer-bashing," Brian sighed, taking a long swig of his beer before tracing his fingers over the left side of Justin's head right at his hairline; the place he'd been bashed. Justin's hand went to rest on Brian wrist as the older man continued to finger the part of Justin's head that was completely void of feeling.

"What are we going to do?" Justin whispered, his voice full of emotion.

Brian retracted his hand and sat back in the sofa, taking another swig of his drink. "Cynthia researched loads of incidents but I got her to pick the most recent, most obviously corrupt examples," the older man stopped. It sounded like every word was causing him physical pain.

Justin frowned and paused waiting for Brian to elaborate. He didn't, so the younger man was forced to ask, "so, who were they?"

Brian took a deep breath, another drink and got to his feet. He left the beer on the coffee table and went to retrieve his briefcase, he pulled something out from the case and brought it back to the sofa with him. It was a folder full of information, each sheet was stapled to a photo.

"Cynthia's pretty thorough," Brian joked weakly, sitting back down and beginning to show his partner in crime the list. "Margarita Lopez," he said, holding up the first picture and passing it to Justin. The younger man took it and studied the photo carefully. "Jefferson Procter," was the next one. Then there was, "Natasha Ginsberg." Brian handed over the next photo which was of "Dumpster Boy". The older man smirked, "better give Debbie that one. We all know how passionately she feels about that twinkie."

Justin grinned a little. "That's four," he said. "Who's the fifth one?"Brian shifted a little, he looked a little uncomfortable as he reached for the photo of the fifth victim. He handed it over wordlessly and as soon as Justin saw the black and white photo of himself, he understood why. It was silent for a while. Neither man really knew what to say when Justin's bashing was brought up. It was a hyper sensitive subject for both of them and neither wanted to offend the other.

"I'll give my mom this one," Justin said eventually. "You know how passionately she feels about this twinkie."

Brian gave a weak smile and said, "we can find someone else if you don't want to…"

"No," Justin interrupted immediately. "It's fine. Just…" he trailed off.

"What?"

"Can we use a different photo, I look like an idiot in this one."

Brian did laugh then. He put his hand on the back of Justin's head and pulled him into a searing kiss. When they broke apart, Justin was grinning widely. "So, what _is _the plan?"

"Ah," Brian smiled and he began to explain it.

When he'd finished explained, he frowned, his forehead creasing nervously.

"What?" Justin asked. "It's a really good idea."

"I know. That's the problem," Brian sighed.

"God, you're not still worried about what'll happen to Stockwell, are you?"

"No, it's just," he paused and looked at Justin, "how are we going to convince everyone _you _up with it?" Then he grinned.

"Asshole," Justin grinned back, hitting Brian in the stomach with the back of his hand.

* * *

_Set after Stockwell and Vance walk in on them *coughs* erm ... fucking!  
("Haven't you ever seen two guys fucking before?" No, he hasn't Brian coz he's a 'goddamn Nazi homophobe is what he is' - gotta love Debbie)_

_oOoOo_

"Wanna finish?" Brian asked, angrily before storming to the bathroom and shutting the door. Brian barely ever shut the door to the bathroom, not when he was taking a piss or in the shower or shaving or anything else. Justin stood up and pulled his pants on and went to the door of the bathroom. He heard the shower switch on and sighed. He knew they were in trouble. He knew he'd definitely lost his internship and he knew Brian had probably lost his job too. Shit.

Brian took an age in the shower, he leant against the wall motionless and just let the water was over him, he allowed it to run down his face like a warm waterfall eventually, when the water was starting to run a bit colder, he decided it was time to get out. He dried off and walked mutedly back into the bedroom. Justin was led there in a pair of shorts and he was watching Brian carefully as the older man dropped his towel and got into bed. He pulled to covers over him, turned on his side away from Justin and waited. He didn't really want to speak to anyone, least of all Justin but he knew the younger man wouldn't be able to resist. He knew Justin would wriggle over and say something that should make him feel better but wouldn't.

Slowly but surely, Justin felt the mattress dip behind him as Justin moved across the bed towards him. He felt a hand on his shoulder as slender figures began to trace slowly up and down his arm and Brian felt a faint hope that maybe Justin _wouldn't _say anything and that this was all there would be.

"I was thinking," Justin started. Or not, Brian thought. "What if you tell Vance the posters and everything it was all just me. The thing at the GLC was me. We can say you didn't have anything to do with it."

Brian blinked once slowly. He couldn't believe Justin was even suggesting that. Sometimes, the younger man really showed his age but Brian didn't shout or yell, he didn't have the energy.

"It wouldn't work," he said slowly, rolling steadily onto his back. "Even if you had been the only one who'd created the poster and the incident at the GLC it's still obvious I knew about it. And," he sighed heavily, "I'm pretty sure fucking the intern is kind of frowned upon too."

Justin smiled a little although nothing was really funny.

"What?" Brian asked.

"Just made it sound all kinky like a porno." He leant down and kissed Brian gently. "Why Mr Kinney, you've been taking advantage of the poor, innocent intern."

Brian let out an involuntary groan as Justin smiled and kissed him again before pressing his ear against Brian's chest. They both fell quiet but Brian's hand came to rest in Justin's hair and fiddle with it a bit. Justin hummed contently despite the fact his mind was racing as he tried to come up with anything that might save Brian's job.

"So what are you going to do?" Justin whispered after a moment or two. Brian's hand stopped in his hair for a second but started up again almost immediately. Anyone other than Justin may not have even noticed.

"I'll think of something," Brian said calmly and with confidence he didn't feel. Justin's eyes closed then and when he woke up, sun was streaming through the window and Brian was pacing the loft.

"Vance called," he muttered, when he realised that Justin was awake. "I've got a meeting with him first thing this morning." He turned around abruptly and marched back to where he'd just come from. "And," he said as he turned on the spot again, continuing with his pacing, "you're fired." And as an afterthought, "sorry."

"Wait," Justin sat up in the bed, "he got _you _to fire me."

Brian stopped pacing then and looked at Justin. "We both knew you were gonna get canned," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but by you."

"Well Vance pretty much wants to strangle you. You've cost him Stockwell's campaign _and _he has to fire his best advertising exec. If I were you, I'd stay away from him. In fact, I'll pick your stuff up from Vanguard."

"No fucking way," Justin growled. "I'm taking the walk of shame too."

They'd fought about it for a while but eventually Justin had gone into Vanguard to pick up his stuff. There were a few pencils, a jumper and a notebook of scribbled record of everything he'd done since he'd been there. They were all clumped together in a neat-ish pile on one of the lesser used desks. Justin went over, picked up the stuff and shoved it roughly into his shoulder bag.

"Hey," a voice suddenly made him jump. Justin span around and was faced with Connor. "You weren't kidding then," the other boy smiled impishly, "you actually _were _fucking the boss."

Justin smiled a bit and gave confirmatory shrug.

"The rumour is that Stockwell caught you in the act."

"You should stop listening to all these rumours, Connor," Justin sighed, zipping his bag up.

"So it's not true, then?"

"I never said that."

"So he did?"

Justin's silence told the other boy everything he needed to know but Justin found it strange, Connor didn't look disgusted or shocked, he just looked … well, impressed.

"And you made those stop Stockwell posters," Connor grinned. "They shouldn't be kicking you out, they should be giving you a medal."

Justin chuckled a little. "I can't see Vance wanting to reward me for fucking up his biggest campaign and forcing his arm in canning his best advertising agent."

"Wait, Kinney's getting fired?"

"Probably," Justin nodded. If there was anything he had regretted about this whole ordeal it was that Brian had lost his job, not only his job but his livelihood, everything he'd worked so fucking hard for all his life.

"Shit," Connor moaned, kicking at a table leg. "It's gonna be crap 'round here with only Vance running things."

Well, Justin thought, that proved his theory that the people at the company worked hard for Brian Kinney not Gardner Vance. He'd guessed as much as soon as he'd arrived at Vanguard. Every person who worked there seemed to want to do well to impress their boss. But more than that, they respected Brian. He'd already proved his worth at the company enough times to be the undisputed leader of all of them. Justin wondered just how well Vanguard would fair without him.

"Justin," Cynthia's voice suddenly disturbed the two. "Vance is going send to security to escort you out if you don't leave soon," she whispered. "I think he wants you out before Brian gets here."

Justin nodded, said a quick goodbye to Connor and left Vanguard without another word. He promised himself he would never get into the cutthroat world of advertising ever again. He'd got all he'd wanted from the work experience, he just wasn't sure it would be worth what he'd cost the most important person in his life.


	53. Episode 312

**I am going to TRY to keep uploading everyday but, as i'm sure you are all aware, the World Cup starts tomorrow and therefore I am going to be spending the majority of my time watching football so if updates slow down a little for this fic then, I'm sorry.**

**P.S C'MON ENGLAND! =D**

* * *

_Brian convinces Justin to go as hustler._

_oOoOo_

Justin was flicking idly through the pages of a magazine and Brian was looking at something on the computer when the announcement was made.

"I've decided to follow up on the Police investigation."

Justin looked up from his magazine. Brian was still clicking away as though he hadn't said anything but the younger man pressed the announcement anyway. "I thought Horvath told you there was nothing he could do."

"No," Brian continued, still not looking at his partner. "He told me to get some hard evidence."

"What are you gonna do," Justin snorted, "get someone to dress up like a hustler and fuck him?"

"It's funny you should suggest that," Brian said, finally looking up and fixing Justin with an expectant gaze. It took Justin all of a second to work out what the older man was suggesting.

"No fucking way," he said immediately leaping to his feet. "I'm not fucking a murderer."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Brian scorned standing up slowly and going to pour himself a glass of whiskey. "As if I'd let you do that. No. But you can dress up as a hustler, go to the bar, talk to him. Get some DNA."

Justin screwed up his face in disgust as he followed Brian over to the kitchen part of the loft. "What kind of DNA?"

"Cigarette butt, saliva from a glass. I don't know, we'll figure that out later. First we need to make you look like a desperate fag on the street who's peddling his ass just to survive."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Justin reasoned. "If it wasn't for you, that's probably exactly where I'd have been when my dad kicked me out."

"You'd have survived," Brian said matter-of-factly, "you always do." Then he raised his glass of whiskey and pointed it towards Justin like a toast, before downing the whole lot.

Justin just smiled as Brian slammed the glass on the counter top and said, "right, lets find you an outfit."

"I haven't even agreed to it yet," Justin pointed out as the older man began to make his way to bedroom.

"You will," Brian reassured him, turning around and grabbing Justin's wrist and dragging him with him towards the bedroom. As they walked, Brian pulled Justin close and whispered in his ear, "I'll make it worth your while."

* * *

_Rikert's a no-show at the hustler bar_

_oOoOo_

The bar had started to clear out around eleven but Brian just ordered another beer and took a long sip. Why wasn't the bastard here yet?

"I don't think he's coming," Justin said for about the fiftieth time. "Why don't we get out of here?"

It was obvious the younger man was somewhat uncomfortable in his undercover role but Brian didn't say anything, he just pointed to his full glass of beer and took another drink. Justin rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. Christ, Brian thought, sometimes the twink could be a right queen anyway, it was obvious Justin was still pissed about the Hunter thing. Brian's suspicions were confirmed just seconds later.

"Why are you leading him on?"

Brian knew immediately that they were talking about Hunter but he played dumb because that was how he was expected to react, uncaring and sarcastic and damned if he was going to break the habit of a lifetime for some blonde twinkie, despite how much he might care for the younger man.

"Leading who on?"

"Hunter."

"Oh," Brian said, the mock realisation practised to perfection, "him. Why do you care?"

"Maybe because he's trying to stake a claim to you."

Brian snorted loudly trying and failing to keep himself from laughing.

"I'm glad you think it's funny," Justin moaned.

"It's fucking hilarious. You're jealous of a kid."

"I'm not jealous," Justin snapped back but they both knew it was a lie, so Justin blushed and Brian laughed some more before taking another long gulp of beer and turning to kiss Justin deeply. It was what Brian did when any normal person would say 'I love you'. So Justin just kissed back, when any normal person would say 'I love you too'.

Brian's perfect, soft lips were gone far too quickly and when Justin opened his eyes he noticed Brian was peering intently at something over Justin's shoulder, before swearing sharply under his breath and going back to his drink.

"What happened?" Justin asked, looking in the direction Brian had been looking and seeing nothing too unusual for this bar.

"I thought I saw him," Brian frowned, "but it was a different ugly, bald, fat bloke who has to pay for a fuck." Justin smiled a little but it was severely forced. He felt better about the Hunter thing but he was still fed-up of being ogled and leered at in this rundown, hustler bar.

Justin slumped over the bar suddenly out of pure dispair of the fact he was still fucking in this place. He could smell stale beer that had never been washed off the bar drifting up his nostrils and although he couldn't see him he could sense Brian's presence on his left. Brian's leather jacket felt weird on him, though he felt kind of sexy in a debauched kind of way and Brian had certainly seemed to like him in it if earlier events were anything to go by. Though, Justin thought, Brian seemed to like him in anything he wore. Just as the woody, alcohol-ly stench was getting too much for his nostrils, Justin felt someone sit heavily beside him.

Justin looked up immediately and was greeted with the face of one of the ugly bald men, who'd been cruising him all night.

"Hey," the man said in a way Justin guessed was supposed to be inviting. The twink just smiled politely and edged closer to Brian. This didn't seem to deter the bauld man. "You, er, you want a place to stay tonight?"

Justin heard Brian snort into his drink but Brian didn't seem even slightly concerned about helping Justin out.

"I'm going home with someone already," Justin said, edging still closer to Brian. He didn't completely want to blow his cover as a hustler just in case the police guy did turn up.

"You are?" Brian asked innocently, eyes flashing to the man almost mocking both the man and Justin. Justin because he was semi-helpless in this situation and the man because there was no way in fucking hell he was gonna go home with Justin, especially if the panicked blue eyes were any indication.

"Stop fucking about and help me out here," Justin muttered under his breath.

"It's not my fault that all these men like your ass as much as I do," Brian whispered back, unable to keep his joy at this situation masked.

"I'll pay you twice what he's paying you," the man said lavishly.

"You know, Sunshine," Brian smirked, loud enough for the man to hear, "I really don't think that that's an offer you can afford to turn down." He took another drink but this was mainly to squash any need to laugh as the bald man tried again.

"I'll pay you three times as much as he's paying you. Four times as much if you do it without a condom."

And that was when it happened. Justin wasn't even sure how it had happened so quickly, unless Brian really was Rage. But one moment, Brian was laughing silently into a beer and next moment he was squaring up to the guy with pure black anger in his eyes.

"What did you just say to him?" He asked with an eerie calm quality to his voice.

"It's none of your business," the bald man scowled, trying to push Brian out of the way. Brian didn't budge. It was barely even a contest, Brian towered over the other guy.

"I'll decided if it's my business," Brian answered angrily. "Now, why don't you take your money and throw it away on some fucking porn movie. You can fuck your own hand without a condom _all _night, you sick fuck."

"Alright, alright," the man held up his hands in surrender and backed away quickly. "I made a mistake."

Brian just glared at him until he'd decided the man was far enough away. Then, he wrapped his arm around Justin's shoulders and ushered him out of the pub before anymore of Justin's admirer's could make any kind of move.

It wasn't until they got in the car that Brian realised Justin was grinning like a child, who'd got huge bag full of sweets on Halloween.

"What?" he scowled, turning the key and making the Corvette spit and couch into life.

"I've just had an idea for the next issue of Rage," he smirked. "Rage saves JT from near rape by a horrible balding pervert." Brian rolled his eyes and put his foot on the accelerator. "And, thanks, by the way," Justin added sheepishly.

Brian raised an eyebrow but didn't ask for embellishment. Instead, he turned to his right and said smugly, "I'm sure you can think of a better way to thank me than that."


	54. Episode 313

_Set the morning after Brian meets Rikert in the Hustler bar! =D_

oOoOo

]Brian looked over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror. The purple-blue mark that was running across the bottom of his back stood out and looked disgusting against his otherwise perfect skin. He reached a hand back and prodded it gently, wincing as the pain shot out from the bruise and all through his body.. Fucking asshole cop, he thought, giving the bruise another prod and hissing with pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" Justin asked suddenly appearing at the bathroom door. "It sounds like you're having a fight with an anaconda." Then he spotted the bruise and he just stared, dumbstruck. "Where did you get that?" He demanded.

"I paid a visit to an old ex-cop friend of mine," Brian answered, his face scrunching up in pain as he leant down to pick up his shirt from the tiled floor.

"You went to see him alone?" The younger man asked incredulously, his voice mixed with anger and fear. He couldn't believe Brian had been so stupid. They both knew Rikert was dangerous, he'd fucking killed a guy for fucks sake.

Brian just shrugged. He wasn't the kind of person to answer questions when the answer was so obvious a two year old could work it out .

"You could have gotten hurt," Justin protested.

Brian just shot him a look as if to say, 'I did'.

"I mean really hurt," the younger man clarified. "Why didn't you let me come with you?"

"You think I want you anywhere near that fucking psycho-cop?"

"What, and you'd have been able to fight him off if he'd tried to murder you? You're not that clever Brian!"

"I met him in a public place," the older man said, pushing past Justin semi-angrily and walking towards the kitchen to begin his self-medicating. He really didn't want to fight with Justin at the moment. His back ached, he was pissed that he'd got no answers and there was no way in hell any member of gay Pittsburgh now he looked like he'd lost a cage fight. No member of gay Pittsburgh except just, of course, but that was different because that wasn't really just mindless, meaningless fucking anymore.

"What that grungy hustler bar?" Justin asked, following Brian over to the kitchen counter like an annoying puppy that's slightly too pathetic to kick. "No one would have batted an eyelid if he'd strangled you to death in the centre of the room, they'd probably think it was some kinky sex game."

Brian considered this for a moment. It was true not one person in the pub had even glanced in his direction when Rikert had lost it with him and shoved him backwards. He'd cracked his back pretty hard on the nearest barstool but he hadn't let the pain show on his face. He'd stayed in control because he was sure that would piss the murdering former-cop off more than anything else but his heart had been pounding in his chest. Not that he'd ever admit that to Justin or anyone else for that matter. He just adopted a cocky expression and said,

"well, luckily, I'm fine."

Justin didn't smile. His face was wrinkled with concern and there was a pure kind of terror in his eyes. Brian didn't like it. It was clear the younger man was really scared, so Brian left his drink and walked around the counter top so that he was directly in front of the twink. He placed his hand on the younger man's cheek and whispered, softly and more seriously,

"I'm fine."

"Just," Justin took a deep breath, "don't go there again, please. At least not alone."

"Worried I'll pick up a tight assed hustler?" Brian smirked, taking his hand away from the twink's cheek, killing any moment of tenderness so fast, Justin wondered if perhaps he'd made it up.

"Brian," he warned.

"Fine," the older man answered sulkily before pulling the boy scouts salute and saying childishly, "I promise."

Justin nodded a little, knowing that was probably as good as it was going to get before smirking a little and saying, "so we agree, the next time you go back to that bar is when you're too old to get it without paying."

"There will never be a time when I'd use a hustler, if anything, they'd be paying me," Brian promised, returning to his drink and ignoring the fact he had once paid for a hustler who'd looked similar to Justin. Justin didn't need to know that, no one needed to know that and no one ever did.

"Well," Justin said bitterly, "I know one hustler that would give it away for free."

"Ah, Hunter."

"Uh-huh," Justin nodded. "I bet he hates me."

"Him and half of gay Pittsburgh," Brian confirmed, taking a long swig of his beer.

"Ha. Ha," Justin scorned.

"I'm serious."

Justin narrowed his eyes at the older man, until Brian chuckled at how funny the blonde looked when he was trying to fake being angry.

"Actually," Brian said eventually, "I think he still thinks you're a hustler."

"What!" Justin cried, "you didn't tell him!" Brian really did laugh then, which earned him a scowl, before Justin pressed his bruise very hard.

"Ahhhhh!" Brian cried out, pushing the younger man away angrily. "You little shit."

Justin didn't say anything, he just went to sit on the sofa to sulk for a while. Brian decided that he would _not _be the one to break to silence first. They'd sat for hours not talking when they used to live together permanently and both knew how to act unbothered by it. Now that Justin's official address was at Daphne's, not that anyone would fucking know that the amount of time he spent at the loft, Brian could technically just throw the twink out when he felt like it; not that he ever had or ever would. The truth was, Brian like having Justin around, even when the blonde was having a massive queen out on the sofa, he'd rather him sulk here than somewhere else. Christ, he was turning into such a fucking lesbian.

They were silent for a long time. It must have been nearly forty-five minutes before Brian checked the clock and realised he had to leave for his meeting. He got up wordlessly and went to get his jacket. He was aware that Justin kept glancing up to see what he was doing but the younger man still refused to say anything. He just went to get some shoes and put them on. He was half way out the door when Justin finally spoke up.

"Where are you going?" was all he said.

"A former client of mine rang me up and asked to meet," Brian said offhandedly.

Justin frowned, "who?"

"Stockwell."

"Stockwell," Justin repeated in shock. "Jim Stockwell?"

"The very same. I think my brawling buddy might have had a little word."

"So what? Now he's going to bribe you to keep you quiet?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Brian shrugged.

"You're not gonna agree to anything are you?"

"Sunshine," he answered easily, "I'd rather have my tongue superglued to a lesbian's twot."

Justin smiled. "Well, just be careful."

The older man rolled his eyes and muttered, "yes dear," under his breath. But Brian could do all the muttering and eye rolling he wanted, Justin's words had still left him feeling much happier.


	55. Episode 314

Woodies had cleared out into the street quickly until the only people left were Brian and Justin. Justin because he couldn't find his fucking jacket anywhere and Brian because he _really _needed a drink.

"Bottle of red," Justin heard Brian demand and the smaller man went over to see what was going on.

"You okay?" He asked, not really wanting to point out that Brian couldn't afford the alcohol until the barman said,

"On the house Kinney. Deb told me what you did."

Justin had felt sure that Brian would throw the money at the barman anyway, if there was one thing Brian Kinney did _not _accept it was charity. He didn't like to be indebted to anyone but he took the bottle wordlessly, only raising it to say thank you.

"Wait, don't you want a glass?" The barman asked, fidgeting anxiously as his eyes flicked to the doorway. It was obvious he wanted to get out and join the party.

"Not really," Brian answered, going to sit down in one of the more secluded alcoves out of sight of the bar but he still heard the barman scrambling out of the door at a rapid pace.

It was a few moments until Brian really noticed Justin's presence at the edge of his table. He looked up slowly and saw concerned blue eyes, looking back.

"What are you doing?" Justin asked, moving to sit next to his partner.

"What does it look like?" He said glumly, indicating the wine, "I'm celebrating."

"Don't you wanna party in the street," Justin whinged, standing at the edge of the table. "I mean, you did it Brian. You saved the day."

"Like Rage," the older man muttered, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of red liquid until he felt pressure on the bottle and the flow of alcohol stopped. He opened his eyes to see Justin pushing the wine bottle downwards until it was resting on the table. His eyes slid in their sockets to glare at Justin.

"Can't we celebrate today and worry about our difficulties, financial or otherwise tomorrow."

"_My _financial difficulties," Brian stated firmly. "I already told you, I'm not dragging you down the whirlpool of destitution with me."

"What if I dive in after you?"

"Then you're stupider than I thought," Brian answered taking a few more gulps of wine.

"So that's it?" Justin demanded, pulling the wine from Brian's grasp and taking a long swig. "We've both lost everything. You've lost your job and your money, I've lost my degree and my future. It's all so," he took another swig of red liquid, before Brian snatched his bottle back, "bleak. So _please_ can we dance before I slit my wrists?"

Brian scowled a little but he got to his feet and put an arm around Justin's shoulders as they began to make their way outside. Just as they were at the door, Brian stated,

"We haven't lost everything, we still have…."

But Justin would never know what they still had because at that moment they were hit by more colours than would be found at the bottom of a queer kaleidoscope. Rainbow flags, drag queens and just regular queens lit the place up and the music had been turned up so loud in Boy Toy that the whole street could dance to it. Everywhere you looked there were queers making out, drinking, partying and generally celebrating.

"You should have told me it was an orgy in the street," Brian muttered under his breath, taking another long swig of his drink and looking out across the thronging masses.

"Thanks to Rage," Justin smiled," the streets are once again safe from perverts."

* * *

**By the way, I believe Brian would had said they still had the loft and waved his check in Justin's face. Or alcohol and waved his bottle of wine in Justin's face. Or, in happy dream world, he would have said 'each other' but he wouldn't have, we all know that.**

**See you all at season four! =D **

**xx**


	56. Season 4 Episode 401

**Woo woop! Season 4!**

**Thanks to everyone who's still reading these. I've nearly finished writing them now! =D**

**Also, I'd like to say now, the Pink Posse story line has been ridiculously difficult to write about in these 'Missing Moments' even more difficult than the Ethan stuff so if people disagree with what I've gone with, as always, let me know what you think would have or should have happened and if enough of you agree, I will rewrite it! =D **

**Thanks for reading this far … hope Season 4 doesn't disappoint!**

"**I see you shiver with antici ... ... ... ... pation" - I LOVE the Rocky Horror Show =D**

**IB…xx**

**(^^Sorry for all the above I'm a little bit hyper … but scientists do say that today is the happiest day of the year so lets blame that)**

**!SEASON FOUR!**

* * *

_Set when Brian gets home after Vance asks him to return to the company_

_oOoOo_

Brian was surprised to find Justin sat on the sofa when he got back to the loft but this was the kind of thing that happened when you gave someone who has nothing to do all day a key to your place.

"Hey," the younger man called happily, putting down a sketch he was doodling of the next Rage villain. "How did it go? Did he _beg _you to come back?"

"Pretty much, what are you doing here?"

"I came to celebrate," Justin picked an open bottle of wine up and a full glass from the floor by his feet. "A toast, to Brian Kinney's triumphant return to Vanguard."

"Uh-huh?" Brian snatched the bottle from Justin's hands and looked at the label, not a bad make, not a bad year, in fact, not bad at all. "It's too early for you to be drinking," he stated firmly, before taking a long swig.

Justin smiled a bit, "not if we're celebrating your new job."

"What if I haven't got a job?" Brian asked, slumping into the sofa, taking another swig of the bottle and passing it to his partner.

"What? I thought Vance begged you to come back."

"He did."

"I thought he was going to offer you more money than before."

"He was."

"So _why _are you still unemployed?"

"Because," Brian sighed, leaning backwards so his head flopped over the back of the seat, "he only wanted me back because he was afraid I was going to snatch all his clients."

Justin frowned. "So, what are you going to do?"

Brian lifted his head and gave a crooked grin, "snatch all his clients."

Justin laughed.

"I've set up meetings with my three biggest accounts for this afternoon. We'll see where Vanguard stand when I've taken the biggest money earners for myself."

"What are you gonna call your business?"

"Ahh," Brian smirked, putting his arm across the back of the sofa so his hand rested on the nape of Justin's neck. "I thought maybe you could come up with a name." Then he snorted a bit adding, "seeing as you clearly have nothing better to do."

"I'm just at a crossroads," the younger man replied petulantly. "Once I've decided what I'm going to do with my life I'll pursue my knew path resolutely." Justin smiled, "but until then…"

"… you're just going to clutter up my loft and drink bottles of red wine," Brian finished, a fake smile stretching his lips as he took the bottle back from his partner and drank some more."Shut up, we're still celebrating." Justin pinched the bottle back and raised the bottle in a toast. "To," Justin struggled to think of a good name for Brian's new business but nothing came to mind so he went with, "Brian's Advertising Agency."

Brian raised an eyebrow, "I was hoping for a name that's a little more creative than that."

Justin grinned. "I haven't started thinking yet," he chuckled.

"Mm," Brian kissed him and then went to find a suit. He needed to look respectable for his future clients. "At least I'll have my car back," he called as he raided his wardrobe. "Michael and his progeny arrived back this morning."

"Debbie will be relieved," Justin smiled to himself. "He can get back to ringing her three times a day."

Brian laughed from the bedroom. Then he appeared holding up a black shirt and a white one side by side. "Which shirt do you think?" He asked.

"Erm," Justin eyed them both for a moment before asking, "which suit?"

"Pinstripe."

"White then."

"Yeah," Brian put the shirt against him, "I agree." Then he disappeared back into the room.

"I have a good feeling about Brian Ads."

"That names worse than the first one!" Brian scoffed.

"Fine, but I have a good feeling about this anyway. You're going to steal Vanguard's biggest accounts, you've got the Vette back. I think this is a good day."

"Yeah well," Brian appeared from the bedroom to pinch the bottle of wine from Justin's hands again, and taking a sip, "wish me luck."

"You don't need it," Justin reassured him.

"I meant with the car. I swear, if he's so much as scratched it, I'll kill him."

Justin just shook his head and laughed. "I'll be here when you get back."

"I had no doubt of that," Brian said.

He tried to sound pissed off or angry but it didn't really work, not anymore. Justin knew Brian just said things like that because he felt he had to, he didn't really mean them. The old adage actions speak louder than words had probably never applied to anyone the way it applied to Brian. But Brian seemed to believe that not only did actions speak louder than words but that also actions contradicted and corrected words. He showed Justin he loved him, he'd never say it. He told Justin to get out but he never made him leave. It was just Brian's way … it would always be Brian's way. And Justin might be a fool but as he watched Brian swagger out of the loft Justin knew he loved Brian's way.


	57. Episode 402

_Set as soon as the camera's stop rolling when Cynthia's gone to Brian's house to convince him to challenge Vance's use of his idea._

oOoOo

"I'll stick to the bottom," Cynthia repeated, the outrage obvious in her voice. "I've worked for you for years and years Brian and never once have I heard you settle for anything other than the best and now that you'll be working for yourself you've decided you're not gonna try anymore."

"It's not about _trying_ Cynthia," Brian replied calmly. "It's about not having the means to create campaigns for big companies when I'm working from home."

"So win the account and set up a real business," Justin said, placing his pieces of banana onto the toast with far more precision that was necessary.

"If you win this account," Cynthia held up the poster to reinforce her point, "then you can get a building and find a home for, what are you calling this?"

"Kinnetic," Justin answered proudly.

"Guess who came up with the name," Brian scorned.

"I like it, Justin," Cynthia smiled kindly. "It's very clever." Justin just smiled his thank you back and took a bite of his sandwich. "So," she continued, her attention returning to Brian, "Remsen Pharmaceuticals, what ideas have you got?"

Brian sighed thoughtfully and leant against the counter top looking at the advert carefully. At the moment, his mind was blank but he had no doubt that something would come to him by the time he'd actually have to present anything; something brilliant _always _came to him in time.

"What time is this meeting tomorrow?" He asked slowly.

"Four," Cynthia replied.

"Four, that's pushing it a bit isn't it?"

"It's not like you have anything else to do," Justin pointed out, brushing the crumbs off his plate and into the bin which meant it was few seconds before he saw the glare that Brian was shooting at him. "Hey," he protested, "neither do I. I'll help. If you need an artist."

"And I can get anything printed up at Vanguard if you haven't got the means to do it somewhere else," Cynthia agreed.

"Aren't you taking a risk?" Brian enquired, raising his eyebrow at his former assistant.

She just shrugged. "Well, being Gardner's assistant isn't nearly as much fun," she grinned. "And anyway, when you get your own business I expect to be employed immediately with a huge raise."

Brian really did laugh then. This was why he liked Cynthia, there were hundreds of reasons and over the years they'd grown closer and closer until he truly considered her a friend but her honesty, her sense of humour and her no bullshitting were why he valued her so much.

"Four tomorrow afternoon," he said, a edge of determination in his voice now.

"Yeah."

"Okay," he said. "I'm going to go visit a few people."

"You've got an idea," Justin asked hopefully.

"Maybe," the older man smiled, kissing Justin firmly on the side of the head and then leaving the loft in a bit of a whirl.

Cynthia eyed Justin with a pleased look on her face and he just smiled back. They both knew the great Kinney mind was working on an idea and they both knew he'd succeed just like he always did.


	58. Episode 403

_Set after Brian has a go at Emmett for being moody with Michael - the 'like Jesus and Liser … he's making a come back' speech_

oOoOo

Brian was smirking when Michael returned with two beers and handed one to his best friend.

"What's that face for?" Michael asked, as Brian took a long swig of his drink to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

"Looks like Ramón wont take 'no' for an answer," he laughed, nodding to where Emmett was attempting to find a new dancing partner whilst Ramón chased him around like a loyal puppy.

"I thought Emmett was all ready to fuck him."

"He was and then he found out he was a little … well," Brian wiggled his little finger and snorted, "little."

"Oh," Michael nodded in understanding before taking a swig of his own beer. Suddenly Brian laughed again.

"What?" Michael demanded.

"Look," Brian pointed over to Emmett, who was now as good as pushing Ramón away in favour of dancing with some generic muscle queen. "Honeycutt sure knows how to pick 'em."

"Him too?" Michael asked in disbelief.

"No, that's the scabby queen that gave me crabs."

"Urgh," Michael screwed up his face like he was trying not to vomit. "But you said he was …"

"Yeah."

"And…"

"Yep."

"Urgh," Michael repeated but this time with a shudder for dramatic affect. "Don't you think we should go over and warn him?"

"Maybe in a while," Brian grinned impishly, taking another swig of his beer. "This is the best entertainment I've had all day."

Michael stood with Brian watching Emmett dancing with the guy for a good four or five songs without the taller man even seemingly thinking about stepping in but eventually, when it looked like the pair were heading for the backroom, Brian strolled casually across the dance floor towards them. Michael always believed that Brian had some kind of secret people-parting-power because the dancers just seemed to move out of his way as he walked past. Michael knew he'd have been jostled and bumped at every turn but Brian didn't even receive a nudge. He watched his best friend whisper something in Emmett's ear. He watched Emmett say something to the muscle queen and then he watched as the two made their way back towards him. Brian gliding over the dance floor with hardly a bump, Emmett pushing his way through gyrating bodies.

"That's it," Emmett announced when he was in ear shot. "Clearly I am never meant to fuck again."

"Hey," Brian said in mock protest, "I told you, you didn't have to tell him to fuck off."

"You also said he had crabs and …" Emmett shuddered at the thought.

"Yeah, alright," Michael groaned. "We don't need to go through it again."

"I certainly don't need to relive that again," Brian agreed.

"Mm-hmm," Emmett hummed in agreement around his drink. He swallowed quickly, his arms flying into the air, "let's dance!"

"You coming Brian," Michael asked, as his flamboyant friend tugged him towards the dance floor but seeing his best friend fixated on something, or more accurately _someone_, not far away he already knew the answer.

"Er, no," Brian said distantly, beginning to walk in the direction of whoever had caught his eye. "There's something I've got to do." Then he grinned and was gone.

Michael rolled his eyes and followed Emmett to the dance floor. After all, this was his song.

* * *

_Set after the end of the episode_

_oOoOo_

When Brian got home from Babylon, he felt completely self-satisfied. He'd fucked that guy in the backroom, he'd got Emmett and Michael speaking again. It was a successful night and then he'd seen Justin and just like that, his night was ruined. He'd almost managed to forget all this stupid, juvenile vigilante bullshit whilst having his brain pounded by the Babylon DJ but seeing the state of Justin now the thoughts of Cody and his stupid idealisms were brought to the forefront of Brian's mind.

The younger man was sat on the sofa with an icepack resting on his right hand. He looked exhausted and a little pale, with black rims around his eyes.

"Let me guess, the homophobes fought back?" Brian asked, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He was angry and terrified but he refused to step in and simply tell Justin what to do. Hadn't he told Jennifer that it was up to Justin to make his own mistakes? He'd already told the younger man he thought he was being stupid and reckless but the twink had refused to listen.

"No," Justin spat. But he didn't say anything else until Brian was seated on the arm chair across from him looking at him expectantly.

Eventually, Justin gave in to the silent pressure to tell and snapped;

"A stupid fucking breeder told me I was gonna get aids and die." There was a weird strained quality to Justin's voice as though the pain was too much to bare and Brian knew why, he'd heard those words come from Justin's mouth before and he knew who he'd been quoted all those years ago; Chris fucking Hobbs. Still, the things that guy had done haunted Justin … and Brian too, though he was much better at hiding it.

Brian tried not to react, he just raised an eyebrow and asked, "so what did you do?"

"Fucking punched him."

"Is that what happened to your hand?"

Justin looked at the hand hidden under the icepack and nodded silently. His lips were pressed together in an angry line. Brian got up and walked over. He grabbed Justin's wrist and took the ice pack away. Justin tried to snatch his hand back but Brian held it firm. The younger man had forgotten how all those hours in the gym had made Brian stronger than he looked. Justin winced as Brian gazed down at the purple-black bruises on his knuckles and the gash in the middle one caused by the impact of the punches. He'd probably only punched the guy three or four times but he'd punched a wall afterwards because he'd been pumped up on adrenaline and in his psyched up mind, pain had seemed like a lie. He'd quickly realised that pain wasn't a lie and that punching a wall fucking hurts. He'd been paying the price ever since. His hand wasn't broken, thank fuck but it was way too battered to do anything for at least forty-eight hours.

"So you don't want to draw anymore then?" Brian asked, putting the ice pack over Justin's mangled excuse for a hand.

"Huh?"

"Well, if you're gonna keep messing your hand up like this, you clearly don't care about your art."

"Don't be ridiculous," Justin scorned.

"No," Brian shouted angrily. "_You_ don't be ridiculous. You're running around looking for trouble, getting into fights, fucking your hand up. What's wrong with you? Do you even give a shit about your life, you're willing to risk it in a fight with some breeder who's not worth it!"

"They need to know they can't push us around!" Justin counter equally angrily. They were both on their feet by now screaming at each other.

"They're not pushing you around, you're looking for them!"

"We're smoking them out early," Justin reasoned, "getting them before they can hurt anyone else in our community."

"Fuck the community," Brian snarled. "The community can look after themselves, they don't need you and Cody pretending your Cagney and fucking Lacey."

"You're an asshole."

"You're acting like a spoilt kid," Brian shook his head like he was disgusted with the younger man, "grow up," he spat and with that he stormed off to the shower to give himself time to cool off. He was under no illusion that Justin would have fucked off to Daphne's by the time he got out of the shower and maybe that was a good thing. It would probably do them good to spend the night apart for a change.

* * *

**Yay for Cagney and Lacey! I 3 Sharron Gless!**

**Anyhoooooooo, ****please, please, **_**please **_**review. They make me happy and let me know if you're still enjoying/ still reading. All constructive criticism is not only welcome but encouraged. I desperately want to improve and your comments help!  
THANK YOUUUUUUUU!  
****xx**


	59. Episode 404

_Set straight after the 'fight to top' between Justin and Brian_

oOoOo

Brian didn't move. He just lay on the loft floor butt naked, thinking. Now Cody was teaching Justin to fight? What the fuck was this 'club' meant to be? It sounded to him like a reckless attack on breeders. It was just like the homophobes did to them. Cody was an ignorant asshole if he really believed what he preached. Maybe he'd been brought up in one of those religious families, maybe he had a lot of anger to vent but so had Brian, and Brian had never gone around beating up breeders for the fun of it or as a sport. Yeah, he could fight but he grew up with an asshole father and an alcoholic mother, he'd seen enough punches thrown in his lifetime to know how to use his fists. He'd lived in a shithole of a city until he'd moved to Pittsburgh when he was fourteen and he'd needed to be able to fight to stop from getting his head kicked in. But Justin was another story. Good area, good parents (at least one good parent) but it had been a loving home. He'd had private education, no need to fight and he had always been one of those people who were all about peaceful protests and now he was actually starting the fights and Brian was the one trying to stop him. It was like the world had been turned upside down.

Brian heard the shower go and decided he should probably get up off the hard floor. He groan a little as he rolled himself into a seated position and then got to his feet and climbed back into bed. It was a very disappointing end to what had promised to be a hot night.

* * *

_Set when Justin got home after visiting the church with the gay zero … sorry, that should have been _Zorro _silly spellchecker … himself, Cody._

oOoOo

Brian was sprawled on the sofa watching some mind-numbing film on cable when Justin finally came through the door to the loft.

"You're late," the older man noted, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I thought you'd gone to Daphne's house."

"No, I was at someone else's house," he smirked, kicking his shoes off and virtually bouncing over to sit on the floor next to the sofa.

"Was he hung?"

"Not that kind of someone. It wasn't Daphne and it wasn't a trick," Brian said slowly as though thinking really hard before concluding, "no, can't think of anyone else's house you'd be at."

"Asshole," Justin smirked, putting his head on Brian's arm that was resting on the edge of the sofa. Brian moved his hand so his fingers could brush over Justin's hair. It felt weird beneath his fingers, sort of like a toothbrush … or a shoe brush. But, at the same time, it was kind of sexy.

"So who's house were you at?" Brian asked eventually.

"God's," the younger man grinned.

Brian's hand stopped in Justin's hair immediately, he raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his partner.

"God?" He repeated.

"Uh-huh," Justin nodded, his eyes sparking.

"The Posse's picking on Christian's now," Brian said, withdrawing his hand completely and returning his attention to the screen. It wasn't a question, more a realisation out loud. He was so bored of this Pink Posse bullshit. Justin had told him about the 'defectors' who'd left the little vigilante group and now it was just him and Cody running around the streets of Pittsburgh starting fights with homophobes.

"We're not _picking_ on anybody," Justin said, his voice raising just a little. He was so bored of having to explain to good work of the Posse to Brian, was the older man really too stupid to realise all the good they were doing? "We're protecting Liberty Avenue," he said, pushing himself onto his knees.

"Oh really?" Brian sat up. "And how exactly did church help to protect Liberty Avenue?"

"That was just so we didn't lose sight of what we're doing. The guy was preaching about men lying with men being an abomination and about how we're going to rot in hell. But Cody showed the priest how he was a hypocrite, did you know that the Bible says you can't eat shellfish?"

"Yes," Brian answered simply, relaxing back into the sofa. It was the truth, he had known. Hadn't queers been using it as an excuse for centuries? It was one of things they threw out then when Christian activists decided to attack their lifestyle along with things like women wearing trousers means we're all going to hell because dressing like a man is an abomination. That rule happened to be Brian's favourite rule, especially when he'd flummoxed his own reverend at the age of fifteen by pointing out that Jesus _always_ wore a dress. He rubbed his cheek, remembering the slap from his mother he'd received that night.

"Well," Justin continued, ignoring the weird look on Brian's face, "Cody told the guy and he just looked furious. He had no answer to it."

"Let me guess," Brian said a mocking tone to his words, "that was when you punched him in the face."

"No," Justin scowled, getting to his feet and standing between Brian and his precious television. "I don't get it, you clearly don't care about protecting queers as much as I thought."

"Clearly," Brian agreed in a bored tone, craining his neck a little to pear around Justin as though he were a minor inconvenience.

"I thought you'd be behind the Posse," Justin said accusatorily. Brian's eyes flicked briefly to his partners face before he sighed and said simply, "I'm not behind anything that mean's you're gonna walk around the streets assaulting people."

"It's not assault," Justin virtually screamed with frustration. "Why can't you get this? I thought you would, you hate them. You hate breeders and now that someone's actually going to stand up against them all you do is defend them!" He really was yelling now and Brian couldn't help think it was probably a good thing that his loft was the only home on this floor.

Justin's stance was aggressive and his fists were clenched. Brian sighed heavily and remained lounging casually on the sofa whilst repeating the same four words he'd been saying over and over again since Justin had got involved in this dangerous idiocy; "they're not all bad."

"Ha!" Justin spat. "They want us dead! They wish we were all dead! They think we're sick perverts! And they think they can walk all over us!"

Brian got to his feet too. He didn't like being shouted down to and he'd really had enough now of Justin's dangerously hateful attitude towards breedes. He almost wanted to knock some sense into the younger man before it was too late, before Justin really got hurt but Brian didn't know how. He didn't think yelling would help but he didn't have any other options, Justin just wasn't listening.

"What about Debbie?" He shouted, louder than the volume Justin could even dream of reaching. "She's not a homophobe! Or Daphne or your mum or Carl or Cynthia or even my fucking cleaning lady."

Justin just stood looking at his partner dumbly. He'd never seen Brian look quite so angry before but it wasn't just anger there in his eyes, it was fear. He was terrified about something but Justin couldn't work out what it was. Maybe he was worried Justin was going to get hurt but he needn't have been concerned. Justin knew how to defend himself now, couldn't Brian see that? And just because the older man could reel off the names of a couple of hetero's who happened to be okay with fags and dykes, it didn't excuse the 90% that hated them. So he gritted his teeth and said,

"name another one."

"What?" The older man looked confused.

"Name another breeder that doesn't hate us." Brian stood silently, he wracked his brains for one but he was on the spot and none sprang to mind, he didn't, as a rule, associate with breeders. He was about to clutch to a straw and say Gardner Vance, but Justin spoke again louder and more triumphant. "See. You can't think of any!"

And, as though he'd proved his point beyond reasonable argument, Justin turned on the spot and walked out. He didn't even stop to put his shoes on, he just picked them up and strolled out with them in his hand.

Brian heard the door shut. He heard the elevator whirring and then he picked up the television remote and threw it wildly against a wall. He heard the plastic thwack against the bricks. He heard the batteries spring from their case and scatter across the floor and he felt slightly better.


	60. Episode 405

**My Laptop's back! =D And, therefore, Missing Moments is back too! Woohoo!**

* * *

_Set at the end of the episode (after Justin has done the whole gun in the mouth thing to Hobbs)._

_oOoOo_

By the time Justin fell through the loft door he looked awful. Brian had been all ready to mock him and shout at him for being a twot and staying out until a ridiculous hour of the morning with Cody and the rest of the 'Pink Posse' but now, all those feelings had disappeared and all he could see was his partner looking like he'd gone ten rounds with Tyson, at least emotionally.

"What the fuck happened to you?" he demanded, as Justin slumped against the counter top like he'd been shot.

"Hobbs," he sobbed the word like it was choking him from the inside.

Brian felt the anger building up inside him, hadn't he _and _Daphne told him that was a stupid idea.

"And?"

Justin looked up at him, his eyes blue and terrified but he said nothing. It was as though he couldn't speak.

"Justin," Brian was using his authoritative voice now, he'd probably make an excellent father if he actually bothered, Justin thought. "What happened?"

They held each others gaze for a moment, until Justin lost his nerve and his head dipped. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled.

Brian could tell from his weird stance and the strained voice and the fact that he was gluggling down the bottle of water at very precise intervals that he'd been fighting off tears for a while.

"Well, maybe you should," Brian said softly but firmly. "It's like the bashing all over again."

"Yeah, well when I was bashed you told me not to think about it."

"Because it was getting you worked up into a frenzy. But," Brian paused for a minute, suddenly very interested in his shirt for some explicable moment, "I was wrong so now I think we should talk." The words fell out his mouth with barely a point where one word finished and the other began. But Justin heard it all, he nodded again. "Come over here," Brian patted the sofa next to him. Justin smiled a little and pushed himself to his feet, staggering over and landing heavily on the seat next to Brian. "So…" The older man encourage. "You went to see Hobbs, what happened?"

"I put a gun to his head."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Brian wasn't even sure he'd heard it right to begin with but he didn't dwell on it, he just encouraged him to continue.

"He was there," Justin gasped, tears were leaking from his tear ducts now but he was still fighting them, "and I had the gun at his head. He was crying and he looked so fucking scared but it wasn't enough. I made him suck the barrel and he did it. He'd do whatever I asked him to. He was fucking terrified. He looked like I felt everyday of high school." Brian narrowed his eyes a little but he said nothing. "But it wasn't enough. I wanted him to die, so I …" Justin sobbed suddenly and his hands flew up to cover his face.

"What did you do Justin?" Brian asked as calmly as he could in spite of his frantic heartbeat and the nervous, sickening whirlwind that was engulfing everything in his stomach.

"I cocked the gun," Justin choked. "And Cody was telling me to do it. He wanted me to shoot him and I wanted to shoot him. God, I wanted him out of the world forever, I wanted him to rot in a shallow grave and Cody kept saying to do it but then …" Justin looked up and caught Brian's eye, "I realised what I was doing. And," he sobbed sharply, "I stopped. I dropped the gun and…." He gasped and buried his head in his hands.

"You taught him a lesson," Brian reasoned to himself as much as his partner, "and no one got hurt."

"But I held a gun to his head," Justin almost screamed. "I nearly killed him!"

"But you didn't," Brian pointed out calmly.

"What?"

"You couldn't do it. Despite everything he did to you, you couldn't hurt him."

"I suppose," Justin nodded miserably.

"And now it's over?" Brian asked steadily.

"Yeah," Justin nodded again, lifting his head so he could meet Brian's gaze, "it's over." Then, before the older man could do anything, Justin had buried his head in Brian's shoulder and cried. He cried until he was too weak to move without assistance and it was then than Brian had helped him up and moved him to bed.

::

Over the next few weeks Justin had come to terms with the whole thing and then it was as though a weight that he hadn't known he'd been carrying was gone. He felt light and free and that seemed to be doing strange things to him. Not that Brian minded, Justin was twice as horny all the time, he was constantly singing around the loft and he'd been helping with the set up of Kinnetic where he could. Brian could see inklings of the seventeen year old coming back, a confidence that had been somewhat absent for a while. He had all these ideas suddenly. He was working twice has hard on rage, his paintings were popping up all over the loft. But, Brian noticed, he still seemed to have no desire to return to school and that was annoying. He really felt like after all the money he'd spent and all the effort Justin had put in, it would be a shame to throw it all away now. He'd have to be more creative in getting the younger man to agree.


	61. Episode 406

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter … now it starts to get heavy!**

**It's 'the big C' and no Ted, it's not coffee!**

* * *

_Set at the end of the episode after Brian wins the bet but discovers he's gonna lose a ball._

oOoOo

Brian felt like shit as he walked up the stairs to his loft. He'd thought about using the elevator but then he'd taken the stairs. Partly to prove to himself that he was still capable to kid himself, just for a moment, that the cancer wasn't real. And he'd wanted to delay arriving at the loft. He didn't want the impending argument that he knew was coming with Justin. He had no doubt the younger man would chew him out about leaving Debbie's and refusing to apologize for his heartless comments about Vic but right now that seemed like the most insignificant thing in the world. He had a fucking lump on his ball. Cancer. Fucking cancer. Brian Kinney did _not_ get cancer. He barely even got ill. He had the luck of the Irish on his side. And then, with a sickening thud to the gut, he thought of Jack. Hadn't _he_ died of cancer? In fact, hadn't cancer killed his grandfather Kinney too? So he was fucked, completely fucked. He was as good as dead, this disease was going to take everything from him, his youth, his looks, his infamous fucking skills, maybe even his life. But none of that was playing on Brian's mind as he slowed to a halt on the stairs, slowing down gradually as though all his brain power was being used up on this horrendous, terrifying thought to the point his brain couldn't even get his legs to put one foot in front of the other. Brian didn't notice he was still until he leant heavily against the wall, sliding down it to slump on the steps. He felt week and ill but he knew this was mental because of the realisation that was burying it's way into his brain and making his way into his heart. It was the realisation that Justin, young, beautiful, perfect, with his whole life ahead of him, Justin wouldn't want anything to do with Brian, an old, diseased, imperfect, with his life quickly slipping away Brian. He knew this would end everything that he and Justin had … whatever that was.

Somewhat selfishly, Brian realised he could never let Justin know. He didn't want to lose him again and he was sure he would. He wouldn't even mention it to him. He'd go to the scan alone and if it came out badly then he'd go through it alone. It wouldn't be too hard. He wouldn't want people fussing over him anyway. Now that he'd mapped out a plan of sorts in his head, his mind was focused on what he had to do when he opened the loft door. So slowly, very slowly, he got to his feet and started moving again. He was numb as he fumbled putting his key in the lock a few times. He took a deep breath, ready to plunge head first into a heated argument that he really, really didn't and slid the door across.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Justin demanded. He had his hands on his hips and had a furious expression on his face. Christ, Brian thought, he may as well have been wearing an apron, hair rollers and tapping his foot. It would have been funny if Brian didn't have cancer eating away at his ball.

"Oh don't act like a betrayed little housewife," Brian scorned, throwing his keys into a bowl and hanging his jacket up on a peg. "You know exactly where I've been. I told you."

"Babylon," Justin said in disbelief. "You actually went to Babylon."

"Yes, and," Brian added with a smug grin, walking over to Justin and pinching his cheeks together with thumb and forefinger, "I got blown by a certain new guy in town." He pressed a kiss to Justin's Brian-made pout, "pack your books Sunshine, you're going back to school." Brian tapped Justin's cheeks twice and then went to get himself a bottle of water from the fridge.

As soon as he turned away Brian's smirk faltered, this act was hard when all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and die. _This _was why he should never have given Justin a key and freerange to his house, although he was sure Justin would worm his way in anyway. Maybe he'd sit outside the door like a hobo or take a leaf out of Michael's comic book and scale the outside of the apartment before falling through a window … maybe it was better that he did have a key.

Justin stood dumbstruck for a second just staring at his partner as the taller man began to move around the kitchen as though this were any other night of the week. Not the night Vic Grassi had died.

"You honestly think I'm taking that bet seriously now?" He asked angrily. "You should have been at Deb's with the rest of us. You should have been mourning, Vic!"

"DON'T TELL ME HOW I SHOULD FEEL!" He exploded and Justin jumped and took a step back. The fear and confusion was apparent in his eyes but he smoothed his expression. Anyone who knew him any less well than Brian would believe he hadn't even flinched. He was very cool and collected when he replied,

"someone has to, as you seem to pretend you don't feel anything."

"You don't know how I feel or what I pretend," Brian growled.

"Vic's dead Brian and you're just carrying on like nothing's changed."

Brian almost snorted at the irony. Couldn't Justin see that everything had changed … Vic, Brian, Ben, Hunter … death was all around him, closing in on him. He could feel it. It was like a game of tag and death's fingers were brushing against all their clothes reminding him he wasn't invinsible. Reminding him his youth and beauty were going. And now, as some kind of twisted joke, he had to look Justin in the face; twenty-years-old, beautiful, perfect, complete _young. _Things Brian would never be again but he kept up the couldn't-care-less act because he had to. He couldn't be week in front of Justin.

"I didn't carry on like nothing has changed," he said slowly, noticing the interested, almost hopeful look Justin gave him and then killing all hope with, "I drank to Vic's memory just before I got blown by a hot doctor and won the bet."

Justin shook his head in disbelief and disappointment. In all the years he'd known Brian, he never thought he'd be this blasé about someone dying.

Seeing the look on the younger man's face, Brian continued, digging a deeper hole, for himself, a hole that, in his head, looked suspiciously like a grave, whilst pushing Justin away, so the younger man wouldn't have to ever see him lie in the hole as a corpse.

"You see Sunshine," he said grandly, "everyone's going to die at some point and we can't put our lives on hold. Instead we should take this as a wake up call to remember that we are still alive and live as hard and as well as we can before our own ticking time clock gives up on us. For some of us," Brian said majestically, "that may sooner than later. Now if you don't mind, I need a shower."

Brian walked to the shower as quickly as possible but Justin followed him closely still berating him.

"You should have apologised to Debbie," was one of the things said. "You shouldn't have gone to Babylon," was another. "Do you even care that Vic is dead?" was the final one before Brian shut the door to the bathroom and turned on the shower so as to drown the younger man out. He really didn't need to be shouted at right now. He had enough going on without a guilt trip adding to it. He sank to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. The water was too hot. The floor was too cold. The banging on the door was too loud and Brian just went numb. He felt heard nothing, he saw nothing, he felt nothing … maybe this was what death was like. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Nothingness would have to be better than, old, ill and Justin-less. But Brian didn't think about that, he didn't think about anything. He just stared blankly at a space on the floor and he tuned the world into silence.


	62. Episode 407

_Set after Brian decides he needs to go back to the office after finding Justin and the two tricks in his bedroom._

_oOoOo_

Brian could hear the loft door slide open behind him, he heard the clattering of feet on the steps and then he heard his name.

"Brian, Brian. Wait."

Brian sped up. He did not want to have to make up more lies to deter Justin. It was all he seemed to be doing at the moment. They hadn't fucked for three days and coming up with excuses was getting more and more difficult. He felt sure Justin knew something was up, he just couldn't work out what reason for his sudden disinterest Justin had come up with but he knew he'd be worrying himself sick over it because that's what Justin Taylor did.

Brian wanted the younger man to have some fun for a change, to go upstairs with the two hot tricks and fuck for a while but this was Justin and he was persistent until eventually he caught up with him.

Brian heard his name said softly as a hand fell on his shoulder and the force of the pleading tone and the gentle touch made him spin round immediately and face his partner.

"Brian, talk to me," Justin begged. "Please. Have I done something to piss you off?"

"No," Brian answered immediately. Slightly horrified that it had been this particular conclusion that the younger man had leapt to. "It's not about you."

"So, you just don't wanna fuck me anymore?" Justin's face screwed up and he looked more than a little confused. "Do you just not find me hot anymore? Is it the hair? Am I too old?"

"Justin," Brian said to stop the kid from speculating anymore ridiculous theories. "Stop," he ran his hand through the short bits of the younger man's hair. He loved the feel of it beneath his fingers almost as much as he loved the longer style. "You're hair is hot and you're always going to be too young for me."

Justin smiled a little at that but Brian remained solemn as he continued,

"it's got nothing to do with you, I promise." And, with a kiss to the forehead he said, "Now, I really have got to go back to the office." And tried to turn away.

"But…" Justin protested catching the older man's arm and keeping him anchored to the spot.

"But I'm running my own business," Brian sighed, "it's hard work. I just haven't got the energy or the time to stay up all night fucking." He leant forward and kissed Justin more deeply this time. "I'll be back soon. Why don't you go upstairs and … have fun," he smirked. "They really are two fine specimens."

And then he was gone, out the door and in his car before Justin could really fathom what the hell had gone on. It seemed almost like a realistic dream. One of those ones you wake up from and you can't remember if it really happened. The kind that when someone does something bad to you, you begin to blame them in real life because the image is still so vivid. Justin thought about pinching himself but then he realised, even in his craziest dreams, Brian Kinney did _not _say he was too tired to fuck.

He turned around and slumped back up the stairs. He did think about fucking the guys for a while but he wasn't Brian. He couldn't fuck when he had something on his mind, so he sent them away apologising profusely.

* * *

It didn't get better over the next couple of days but Justin decided to stop pushing it. He just let it, whatever _it_ was, be. And then had come the sledgehammer blow to the stomach that he could never have expected. Brian had decided to take _their _Ibiza trip alone. Justin had felt betrayed when he'd heard the news and then Brian had lost it. Exploded like Justin hadn't seen in a long time and immediately, Justin knew something was very seriously wrong though he could not for the life of him work out what. Brian was acting so strangely. He kept pulling him close and then pushing him away. He looked pained constantly like he was desperate to tell him something but couldn't. But it wasn't any of that that disturbed him most, it was the way he left for Ibiza. He'd pulled him into a hug that never seemed to end, his hands running all over Justin, saving him to memory. He kissed him like his life depended on it and spoke softly like everything was a secret. It all seemed so strange, so un-Brian, so … final. Justin almost cried as Brian picked up his suitcase and headed for the door. But Justin chased him and squeezed himself between Brian and the only exit.

"What's going on?" He begged but Brian just shook his head silently.

"I'll see you when I get back," he promised and with that he'd gone.

* * *

Justin decided to go back to Daphne's that night. She still found it ridiculous that he hadn't just moved in at Brian's loft.

"I mean you're practically there all the time," she said.

"Maybe not for much longer," he sighed.

"Huh?"

"I don't know. He's acting really weird. It's like he doesn't want me around anymore or something. He's always angry. He never wants to fuck but…." Justin trailed off, completely confused.

"But what?"

"But he'll sit on the floor and eat Thai food by candlelight."

From the expression Daphne gave him, Justin may as well have said, 'but he tried to use a ladder to climb to the moon'. It was complete disbelief and confusion.

"Yeah, I know," Justin said. "He's acting strangely."

They stayed up all night talking about possible reasons. Serious ones at first;

"Maybe he's found someone knew," Justin suggested.

But, as the time went on and the tiredness ate away at their rational sides they decided, "he'd been abducted by an alien" _or _"a lesbian".

Needless to say, in the morning they were still no closer to discovering the truth.


	63. Episode 408

"_Buy a one way ticket to Ibiza, party till you drop and then discretely disappear." Brian Kinney_

* * *

_Justin listens to the message on Brian's answering machine_

oOoOo

"… we can discuss your post surgery options."

"Bri…" Justin voice trailed off weakly. If his partner hadn't been able to hear him outside the door, he wouldn't hear him half way across the loft. Justin sat down. Maybe the Doctor had made a mistake, maybe it was a different Brian Kinney in Pittsburgh … or maybe he was deluding himself. Nervously, because he was terrified of what he was about to discover, he picked up the phone and returned the call.

The ringing seemed to go on forever, the pause between each ring seemed longer than the last but eventually, a man's voice answered.

"St John's Hospice."

"Oh, hello," Justin said politely. "I was just wondering if you could tell me who Dr Rabinowitz is."

"I'm sorry sir," the receptionist asked, understandably confused by the request.

"I think my partner is a patient of his."

"Oh, okay."

"What's his name?"

"Why would you assume it was a him?" Justin asked immediately.

"Well, sir, not many women get testicular cancer."

Justin felt like vomiting. Cancer. Surely that wasn't possible. Not Brian. Please God no.

"Sir," the receptionist said when the silence had dragged for a while. "Sir, are you still there?"

"Er, yes," Justin swallowed, trying to hydrate his throat which was now inexplicably dry. It was as though he'd been doing exercise in a desert. "I'm here."

"What's the name of the patient?"

"Brian," he whispered. "Brian Kinney."

"Brian Kinney," the receptionist repeated. "Ah yes, he was with us all last week. Dr Rabinowitz wants to set up some follow up treatments for the cancer, is that what you're phoning about?"

Justin couldn't answer. Every word the receptionist was speaking was like a dagger though his unsuspecting heart; _cancer_ … _he was with us all last week … cancer … follow up treatments … cancer … cancer … cancer._

"Sir," the man sounded impatient now, "are you phoning about the follow up treatments?"

"Er, I don't know," Justin answered stupidly and hung up the phone. The truth was, he didn't _want_ to know anymore. He couldn't hear anymore about Brian being sick. He'd probably just collapse with the weight of whatever this was that seemed to be consuming him. He was horrified, upset and angry all at once but more than that he was terrified. More terrified than he had ever been in his entire life. He felt sick but it did explain a lot about Brian's recent behaviour not that that helped quench his nerves. He couldn't understand why Brian hadn't told him or … Michael. Michael must have known. Why would he keep it from him?

The more Justin thought about it, the more it just seemed like a horrible, surreal nightmare. Brian Kinney couldn't have cancer. He was one of life's winners. Cancer just didn't happen to people like that.

Justin didn't say anything when Brian came out of the shower. He didn't bother trying for a fuck. He didn't bother with anything, he just flicked through the channels asking if there was anything Brian wanted to watch on TV.

When the older man decided that he was jet lagged and needed to sleep, Justin didn't question it and although Brian found that strange, he was too tired and to relieved to bother to mention it himself. He was still wearing the god-awful grey shorts but Justin didn't say anything about them either. He just stood at the edge of the bed, shuffling from foot to foot anxiously.

"Do you want me to stay at Daphne's tonight?" He asked gently.

"No," Brian answered too quickly and a little too desperately as he slid into the covers. "It's okay, you can stay here."

"Yeah, but if you're tired…" Justin reasoned, 'and in agony' he wanted to add as he noted the pained expression on his partners face.

"Jet lagged, not tired," Brian countered, wincing as he slid himself under the duvet. Justin tried not to sigh or roll his eyes at the lie and he thought he just about managed it.

"Well, if you want be here, I'll stay," he whispered.

"Stay," Brian breathed. "I told you, I've missed you." It was more of a rasp and it was clear the older man was completely exhausted and barely awake. Justin just looked at the slightly grey face of the man he loved, the black rings under his eyes, the fact he just seemed so week and he wanted to cry.

Justin didn't say anything else. He just pulled off his shirt and pants and climbed into the bed next to his partner. He moved close and wrapped his arm around the older man's torso. It was strange. Brian felt just like he always did. Justin didn't know what he'd expected, he'd just assumed he'd feel different somehow. He thought he'd _be _different. Surely he couldn't have cancer. Surely not! But, even though Justin spent that night in denial, when Brian woke up in the morning and vomited, Justin knew he had to believe what he knew was true. And then he had to work out how the hell they were going to deal with this.


	64. Episode 409

**I'm going on HOLIDAYY! Woo! That does mean there's going to be a bit of a break in this fic. I'm back on the 23rd**** of July so … probably sometime around then but I'll try and get the next chapter up before I leave tomorrow!**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter and I'll write soon!  
xx**

* * *

_Set around the time of Brian's recovery_

_oOoOo_

He could hear Brian moaning into a pillow as silently as was possible for a man in severe pain. He heard the crashing of things falling off a bedside table and the clattering of the bathroom doors being flung aside before the sound of vomiting. Justin winced and looked down at the soup in the bowl in his hands. This _really _wasn't going to cut it, so he looked around the apartment for something to take Brian's mind off things. His focus soon turned to the television so, as carefully as he could, he unplugged the TV and moved it into the bedroom, along with the DVD. He found a bucket in the cleaning cupboard and placed on Brian's side of the bed on the floor before placing the soup on the bedside table.

Just as he'd finished setting the place up, Brian appeared from the bathroom. He looked pale but a sort of grey colour. He had thick black bags under his eyes and needed to lean against the wall to hold himself upright.

"What the fuck is all this?" he demanded, when he saw his newly arranged bedroom.

"I thought you might like to watch TV."

"You moved my fucking television," he growled in a way that suggested he would have been yelling if his number one priority wasn't stopping himself from vomiting.

"Don't be angry," Justin said. "I thought we could just watch a movie together."

Brian seemed to consider the man in front of him for a while before saying ,"you don't have to stay here. Why don't you go out to Babylon?"

"I don't want to go to Babylon," Justin said firmly, pulling back the duvet so that Brian could just fall into the bed. "I want to watch a movie."

"Goddammit Justin!" Brian suddenly exploded, leaning his face and body to the wall as his legs began to get weary beneath his weight. The younger man jumped a little but he was becoming used to Brian's little outbursts by now and he knew he just had to wait until Brian was ready to continue. It didn't usually take long and today was no exception.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I just don't want you putting your life on hold because of me."

"You honestly think I could enjoy myself knowing that you feel like shit?" Justin demanded. Brian didn't know what to say, so he just made his way clumsily to the bed. Justin knew better than to offer him help.

"I've put a bucket down there for you," Justin said, indicating the bucket, "and there's soup by there."

"I've got cancer, I'm not blind," Brian snapped. Justin just nodded and smiled a little. Brian was still a miserable bastard, cancer wouldn't change that. "So," Brian said steadily as though placating an idiot child, "what are we watching?"

"Something with James Dean, I found it in your crappy selection of DVD's," Justin sighed, hitting the play button and settling down with his head on Brian's chest.

"Ah, well the good DVD's are in the box under the bed, you know that."

"It's not that kind of movie night," Justin smiled. He felt Brian's arm snake around him and he felt almost happy at least on the surface, it seemed to be covering the horrific fear that had been plaguing him ever since he'd found out about Brian's cancer. And suddenly, from no where, he was crying, silent tears sliding down his face. It wasn't until a particularly big sob shook his body that Brian even noticed.

"Hey," Brian frowned. "What's wrong?"

Justin, not trusting himself to speak, just shook his head and used his hand to dry his tears.

"Justin," Brian said firmly. "What's wrong?" He pushed himself up, dislodging Justin so the younger man had to sit up too.

"Nothing," Justin lied shaking his head again. Then, the tears flowed again and he wept, "I just, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Brian closed his eyes tight, this was the other reason he hadn't wanted Justin to know. Of course there'd been the fear that Justin would leave him but more than that, there'd been the fear that Justin would stay and that Brian would force his partner to watch him battle this thing that could easily have killed him. He'd never wanted to put him through this, Justin didn't deserve it.

"I'm fine," Brian whispered, pulling Justin close and pressing his lips into the blonde hair. "I'm fine."

Justin didn't say anything, he just sobbed into Brian's t-shirt and held him like he might be taken away at any second. Brian didn't try to stop him from crying, he just let him. He'd learnt the hard way, with the whole 'Pink Posse' fiasco that Justin didn't react well to burying his emotions. Justin needed to let things out and if crying was the way he had to do it then, Brian would let him. He didn't want to find out in four years time that Justin did something stupid as a result of the situation now. Eventually, Justin sat up, drying his eyes with his sleeve and giving Brian a weak, daft smile.

"Sorry," he sniffed. "I don't know what…"

"It's okay," Brian sighed. "Can we watch the film now?"

Justin sniffed again and nodded before settling down and watching the action unfold. They'd watched almost ten minutes when Brian said,

"You're just lucky I didn't lose my hair during this chemo, then we really would have something to cry about."

Justin chuckled weakly and craned his neck to look up at Brian. He stroked a hand across his chest, gently before whispering, "I'd still be here." Brian didn't say anything, he just let Justin continue, "I wouldn't care. I'd still choose you over Babylon, even if you were bald."

Brian ducked his head forward and pressed his lips into Justin's hair for a long time before falling back to the cushion and turning his attention to the movie, his eyelids drooping heavily. Which meant he couldn't be sure but he was fairly certain he heard Justin breathe,

"I love you too Brian."


	65. Episode 410

**WOOP! I'm baaaaaack! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and 'story alerted' while I was away - I've never seen my inbox so full so THANKS! **

**Here's the next instalment of (and the instalment after that too because it's been such a long wait) … hope they don't disappoint!**

* * *

_God's given Brian a second chance and he doesn't want to blow it … set after Justin blows it for him_

_oOoOo_

"So," Justin smiled when they were walking back to the dance floor in Babylon. "What happened?"

"You blew me," Brian smirked, putting his arm around Justin's shoulder and pressing his face to the side of his partner's head and kissing him on the temple. "I'd have thought you understood all that by now. I mean, I know when we met you…"

"I meant you," Justin interrupted quickly. "What did you do to get hard?"

"I had a run in with the devil," Brian scowled, removing himself from Justin as he got close to the bar and went over to buy himself a drink. Justin just frowned. It was almost impossible to understand Brian when he was in one of his cryptic moods but, where most people gave up pestering, Justin just pestered harder. He popped up at Brian's side just in time to double Brian's order as the barman moved to make the drinks. When Brian turned to see who he was buying a drink for, he sighed heavily. It wasn't because he was surprised or angry that he was buying Justin a drink, it was because he knew this meant the younger man would get it into his head that drinking together meant he could interrogate Brian until Brian surrendered and told him the story. Oh well, may as well cut out the charade.

"It was my mother," he said with mock sweetness as he handed over his partners drink.

"I thought she hated you?" Justin asked, taking a long sip of his drink. He usually tried to be careful on the rare occasions Brian brought up his family but this strange announcement had taken Justin off guard.

"No," Brian said, the sweet tone still sickly. "She loves me, she said so. And, luckily," he scowled and took a sip of his drink, "so does God."

"Well, I know how much you respect God's opinion," Justin said with a knowing smirk.

"Well, maybe I should respect it more," Brian downed the rest of his, stealing himself as he mumbled the next bit as thought saying it quietly and quickly would be like he'd never said it at all. "Maybe then He wouldn't have given me cancer to punish me for being a fag." And with that, he slammed his glass on the bar and marched off into the crowds.

Justin just stared for a moment unable to really fathom what Brian had just said. Surely, Brian's mother hadn't suggested that…. She couldn't have, could she? Justin had only met her once and she'd seemed pretty pissed then but to be fair, she'd just discovered the son she'd assumed was straight fucking an eighteen year old blonde. Brian had told Justin not to worry about the incident because St Joan was a hateful bitch. So he had, after all, Justin's own mother had come round and accepted everything about his lifestyle eventually. He'd almost forgotten that Brian was still battling the demons of his family. Justin downed his drink and chased Brian through the crowd. As always whenever Brian showed emotion, he'd decided to make a quick exit. So Justin didn't see him until he drove the corvette inches from Justin's feet and said, "get in."

They drove in silence neither mentioning Brian's confession. But, as always, Justin was unable to keep quiet for long but, as soon as he opened his mouth, Brian cut him off with,

"don't say anything."

Justin didn't listen. "Don't let it get to you," he said. "She doesn't know what she's saying, she just doesn't understand it. Maybe if you _explain_ to her then she'll change her mind."

Brian shook his head and he couldn't help an ironic, bitter smile pulling at his cheeks. "Explain that I fuck men and I don't give a shit about her or her bigoted, bitchy views because she's a mother fucking piece of shit."

"Maybe don't put it quite like that," Justin said with a bit of a smile.

Brian looked over at him seriously and reached across to put his hand on the back of his partners neck and when they came to traffic lights he kissed him deeply. When the light went green, he pulled away from the younger man and drove home.

"I guess we both have to deal with shitty homophobic parents," Justin sighed, looking out of the window. Brian looked immediately concerned. "Your dad causing you problems again?"

"No, no," Justin smiled. "Just you know, it fucks you up doesn't it."

"I wouldn't know," Brian replied calmly pulling over and parking the car and just like that Brian Kinney had shut his emotions off again.


	66. Episode 411

_I believe Justin and Brian are on screen TOGETHER in this episode for a total of aprox. 32 seconds right at the  
end of the episode when Justin explains to the guy at the aids hospice that he's 'convinced' Brian to donate his Barcelona chair.  
And Brian says that 'withholding sex has worked for centuries'_

… _I give you Justin withholding sex._

_oOoOo_

"Hey," Justin called, throwing his bag next to the kitchen counter and getting a beer from the fridge.

"Hey," Brian said back. "Get me one." He was watching TV or at least trying to. There wasn't much on and what was on wasn't interesting enough to stop his mind wandering to his chat earlier with the resident fundraiser.

"We raised so much money today," Justin stooped to kiss Brian and pass him a bottle of beer before flopping on the sofa next to him.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe how generous queers can be with the right advertising and plugging."

"Oh I've always found plugging a queer to be very lucrative," Brian smirked.

"I bet," Justin grinned. "Guess how much one guy donated."

"How much?" Brian asked over excitedly though whether he was faking interest or pretending to fake an interest, Justin wasn't sure.

"$1000."

Brian raised an eyebrow, a sure sign he was impressed. "How did you manage that?"

"I showed him my cock."

Brian laughed then. "Ah yes, well, that makes sense. Didn't I tell you should give up being an artist and just peddle your ass for a few years."

"You've never said that," Justin said, "because deep down you love me and you want me to be an artist and to succeed. Michael told me you said that I was a genius."

"Mm," Brian hummed, sipping his beer to avoid any sort of admission to any sort of compliment he may or may not have paid the kid when he wasn't around. Then, thinking of the perfect way to divert the conversation he said, "You'll never guess who called into Kinnetic today."

"Michael?"

"No."

"Really?" Justin looked genuinely shocked. "I thought he called in everyday."

"Well, yeah, he did show up," Justin couldn't help but smile at that, "but" Brian continued, "that's not who I'm talking about."

"Okay." Justin thought for a second. "Erm, Gardner Vance?"

"No." Then the older man smirked, "but I heard his business isn't doing as well as it once was."

"I wonder why," Justin grinned, joining the joke and placing his foot on Brian's leg sliding it up and down the older man's thigh slowly. "So, who?"

"Jeffery Pendegrand."

"You're kidding." The foot stopped. "What did he want?"

"He was trying to get my clients to back his stupid campaign."

"So what did you say?"

"I told him to fuck off. Do you know he's staying in five star accommodation?"

"So?" Justin asked, his foot going back to it's original pattern, paying special attention to Brian's crotch area. There was no doubt by now that after this conversation was over they would be heading to the bedroom or perhaps the floor or maybe just right here. Who knew?

"So," Brian drawled with a bit of a sigh. Sometimes he forgot how young and naïve Justin could be. "Who do you think's paying for that luxury?"

Justin shrugged.

"The GLC," Brian explained.

"What?"

"All the money those eunuch's at the gay and lesbian centre have raised is going to his more than comfortable lifestyle."

"So when does he start actually raising money for the charity?"

Brian shrugged. "Sometime after he stops sipping champagne and munching on caviar?"

Justin raised an eyebrow. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing I can do," Brian shrugged, suddenly grabbing Justin's calf and pulling him further onto the sofa. The violent movement shocked Justin but he grinned as Brian removed the beer from his hand and placed it safely on the table before moving on top of the younger man and kissing him deeply. When Brian had moved to kissing Justin's neck, the younger man asked,

"so what _are _you doing to help raise money for the hospice?"

"I'm _raising _plenty of things," Brian replied suggestively.

"I can feel that," Justin gasped out as Brian nipped at his ear. "But you haven't actually donated anything."

"So?" Brian said, kissing Justin again but the twink cut him off and pushed him to arms length with a semi-angry look on his face.

"I'm horny as hell," Brian whined, "_what _do you want?"

"For you to donate something to the aids hospice."

"Like what?"

"Like…" Justin trailed off, pushing Brian off completely and sitting up as he looked around the apartment for the perfect thing. Then, he spotted it, "your Barcelona chair," he beamed.

"No fucking way," Brian snorted, "I'd rather donate a kidney."

"That was my other option," Justin smiled angelically.

"No," Brian said firmly, pulling Justin towards him again and returning to kissing his neck.

"Ah, ah," Justin chuckled, squirming and wriggling away. "You're not going anywhere near my ass until you agree to donate the chair."

"Fine, you can just blow me," Brian smiled like he'd found some brilliant loophole.

"I don't think so," Justin shook his head. He stood up and went to sit on the Barcelona chair. "So Brian," he said with a beaming smile. "Me or the chair?" Then he crossed his arms and legs and waited for the inevitable.

It took ten minutes for Justin to bring out the big guns and was wiggling his ass in full view of Brian. It only took Brian another five minutes to crack and he didn't say anything when he did. He just turned off the television, which he'd been attempting to watch, walked over to Justin, dragged him up by his collar and bent him over the sofa. Justin couldn't be sure but, as he was being yanked from the chair, he thought he heard Brian mutter under his breath,

"fine, you win."

Either way, the next morning, Brian and Justin were carrying the chair into the hospice and one of them was beaming smugly whilst the other was in a bitchy mood.


	67. Episode 412

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last update. Sorry this one's a bit short! =(**

* * *

_Brian sneaks home after a session of secret spinning._

_oOoOo_

Brian crept as quietly as he could when he came back to the flat. He'd taken the stairs to avoid the whirring elevator despite his aching legs. He'd slid the door to the loft aside in silence. He'd put his bag down softly and then he'd virtually tiptoed to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He'd drunk it straight from the bottle to avoid any noisy glasses and then he'd crept into the bedroom.

As soon as his foot had stepped onto top step the bedroom light flicked off and Justin said, "you're late."

"Who the fuck do you think you are sitting in the dark? A James Bond villain?" Brian asked. His voice sounded remarkably calm considering the younger man had just scared him half to death.

"No, I just always wanted to do that," Justin smiled a little and then, as though remembering he was supposed to be angry he snapped, "where the fuck have you been?"

"Out."

"Out where?" Justin asked. "You look exhausted."

"I had a hard workout…" Brian smirked, pulling off his shirt and throwing it to the floor, "…in the backroom."

"I bet," Justin smiled and then, a little more seriously he added, "do you have any idea what time it is?"

"The little hands on the four and the big hands on the five," Brian said. "Does that make it, um," he paused for a moment, "five past four."

Justin rolled his eyes and flopped back into the cushions. "We have an arraignment."

Brian slid into the bed and sighed heavily. "I got held up," he shrugged and then, entwining his fingers in Justin's hair he added softly, "but I came back to you."

"You always do," Justin smirked smugly. Brian looked at him carefully, scrutinising every inch of Justin's face, his hair, his shoulders, any and every available bit of his body. Then, without invite, he shuffled across the bed and pressed a gentle kiss to Justin's lips and, just for a moment, Justin felt like they were a real, proper couple, which, he supposed they were, whether it was conventional to most people's thinking or not.

* * *

Early the next morning, Justin managed to slide out of bed and go to the bathroom and get ready and have breakfast and be on his way out of the door before Brian even noticed his absence from the bed and that was only because Justin managed to stub his toe on one of the large blue posts dotted around the loft on his way to the door and let out a loud cry of protest.

Brian had sat up immediately, thinking someone had broken in and turned on all the lights. When he saw Justin hopping around the room claiming his toe was broken, Brian promptly killed the lights and went back to sleep wearing nothing but a smirk.

When Justin came home from spinning about an two hours later, Brian was still in bed but this time it was less about sleeping and more about fucking and the only sentence he'd said as the younger man strolled into the loft was,

"do you think you're up for another cardio workout sunshine?"

"Oh, I'm up for it," Justin beamed.


	68. Episode 413

_Brian's convinced Justin to go to Hollywood instead of the Liberty Ride as is taking him to the airport_

_oOoOo_

Justin fidgeted anxiously in his seat as Brian drove slowly towards the airport. He was in no hurry to drop Justin off. He wasn't sure how long Justin would be out there especially if he was bitten by the Hollywood bug. He sighed a little to himself, resting his elbow casually on the door of the car as he used just the tips of his fingers to steer the vehicle.

Justin shifted in his seat again. The silence was driving him crazy, pressing on his eardrums and suffocating him. Suddenly, his hand darted forward and he hit the on button for CD player the music fought off the suffocating silence. Brian started at the sudden action but he composed himself and turned to look at his partner.

"Nervous?" He said casually as the Weezer CD shuffled between songs.

"No," Justin lied, shifting again.

"Excited?" Brian tried.

"I guess," he smiled. "It's going to be amazing. Taking Rage to the big screen." He sounded enthusiastic but Brian could hear the slightly flat tone to his voice.

"Uh huh," Brian smirked, "queers everywhere will get to view Rage and JT fucking."

Justin grinned and looked over to his partner. "I thought you liked an audience."

"I do," he smiled.

They fell quiet for a while. It was weirdly awkward in the 'vette. It was as though both wanted to say something important but were both afraid how the other would react. The CD changed song again.

"What are you going to do with the money you raised?" Justin asked eventually.

Brian just shrugged. "Give it to Michael," he said. Though neither man in the car had any doubts that Brian would be completing the Liberty Ride himself even if it killed him, which it quite possibly could.

"Well, just be careful," Justin said, speaking their unspoken conversation aloud.

"I think I can sign a cheque without straining any important muscles," Brian scorned, refusing to acknowledge the unspoken conversation at all.

"You know what I mean," Justin muttered, loud enough so that he was sure Brian had heard him but quiet enough so the older man could pretend he hadn't, which conveniently allowed them to avoid any unpleasant emotional conversations. The CD skipped another song and the loud baseline thumped through Brian's skull and that was enough to drown out any emotion. It was quiet after that, nothing more that the odd discussion about Lindsey's new love of cock. Justin still found that almost too strange to not laugh at and usually Brian would just say something about him understanding her wanting cock but not understanding why she'd go back to pussy or worse than that, Mel's pussy. They'd both shuddered at the thought.

It wasn't long until Brian was pulling the corvette up in the taxi bay outside the airport. A couple of people beeped their horns but Brian just leant out the window and told them to fuck off. Justin chuckled to himself. Then Brian had turned to him and was suddenly very serious.

"I'll er," Brian coughed suddenly and cleared his throat, "I'll miss you."

Justin smiled back warmly and leant over to kiss him. "I'll phone you as soon as I get there," Justin grinned.

"To rub it in that you're in Hollywood whilst I'm stuck in glorious Pittsburgh?"

"Something like that," Justin agreed, placing another peck to Brian's lips before getting out of the car and moving to the trunk. Brian popped it for him, watching him in the wing mirror as Justin dragged his bag as carefully as he could from the car. He knew that scratching the corvette was a crime punishable by death. Justin waved then and began to walk awkwardly towards the airport.

Brian watched the back of Justin's head walking away from him, he suddenly had a bizarre sense of déjà vu like he was sick of letting the younger man walk away without saying anything. Within seconds Brian was scrambling out of the car, locking it and chasing after Justin, who was staggering around with his bag. As Brian walked away from the car, there was more beeping from the disgruntled cabbies but Brian ignored them as he caught Justin's arm, swung him around and kissed him deeply. When he finally pulled away he said softly,

"I want you to fuck a whole load of movie stars," Justin smiled as Brian continued, "and I'll see you when you get home."

Then Brian had walked away as casually as he could. Justin watched the older man virtually glide to the car, got it and drove off. He didn't even look back but Justin smiled because Brian may as well have screamed I love you in front a whole hoard of strangers and even worse breeders. He grinned, hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder and staggered inside. _Now_ he really was looking forward to his trip.


	69. Episode 414

**We're at the end of season four … who'd have thought we'd come this far! Seriously, thanks to every single one of you who's reviewed this fic, alerted this fic and read this fic. I love you all muchly! **

* * *

_Includes Kinney's speech at the end of the episode and then … continues the conversation._

_oOoOo_

"I want you to move back in."

"Huh?"

"I said, I'd like it if you and I were to live together."

Justin gave a breathy laugh, "are you proposing?"

"Of course not," he snapped, "with the sudden and unexpected plethora of gay marriages, I'd hate to add to the glut." He sighed, "all this running back and forth between here and Daphne's is time consuming … and inconvenient. I mean just last week you forgot your socks and had to borrow a pair of mine." Brian took a deep breath and readied himself for the next bit, "And … as for the times when you're not around," eyes shut, just say it Kinney, "I wouldn't particularly mind it if you were."

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that since the first night you brought me here."

Brian looked down at his hands, he'd expected a 'yes' immediately. Sometimes, he forgot that Justin wasn't that needy little kid anymore.

"Well then, what do you say?" Brian asked, "Should I make room in my draws, for your draws?" He ruffled the back of Justin's hair and sat in the seat next to him. Justin didn't say anything. He seemed to find something suddenly interesting on the table top. Brian watched him carefully, the strained look on his face, the way his eyes shifted about.

"What's wrong?" he asked, resting his right arm with a glass of whiskey on the table.

"Nothing," Justin said, reaching out to hold Brian's hand. "It's just…." He stopped. Why had Brian had to do this now? He'd made it a million and one times more difficult to tell him he was leaving.

"Just … what?" Brian encouraged. He felt like he was on the edge of a moment of doom, like something really bad was about to happen.

"It's Bret," was all the information Justin gave. Meaning Brian, with the tone of a frustrated man trying _cery _hard to stay calm, he asked;

"What about him?"

"He's offered me a permanent job on the preproduction of Rage as a storyboard artist."

Brian nodded slowly once, his silent disappointed 'oh', before taking a long swig of his drink. "Are you gonna take it?"

"Yeah?" Justin said with such a questioning inflection, that Brian's head shot up and he frowned in confusion. "I mean," the younger man faltered, "if you don't mind."

"Me? What does it matter what I think? Do _you_ wanna go?"

"Yeah," Justin repeated, more excitedly this time. "You should see it out there, it's incredible. There's all these massive studio's and the people in the art department are good; really good. They have visions and they can actually make it happen and the people … the people are…."

"Sounds perfect," Brian cut in sullenly as Justin tried to think of the best superlatives to describe Hollywood.

Suddenly, Justin's bright mood deflated and he looked at his boyfriend carefully. Maybe Brian had been through enough over this last year without Justin abandoning him as well. And he knew it must have been hard for someone as closed off as Brian to ask him to move in with him, so he said,

"But I think I'll stay."

Now Brian really did look angry, "Now _why _would you do something as stupid as that?"

"Well, you need me here."

"Thank you for your concern," Brian scorned, "but I managed just fine on my own for twenty-eight years before you arrived."

"Twenty-nine," Justin corrected immediately earning himself a scowl.

"Twenty-nine," Brian corrected angrily. "The point is, I think I'll cope for a couple of months whilst you sun yourself on the beaches in LA." He took a drink of his whiskey before adding, "I need a shower."

Justin watched Brian get to his feet and awkwardly, with one arm, start to remove his sling and unbutton his shirt. He failed to undo the top button a few times and Justin could see the anger building up inside his partner.

"Here, let me help," Justin offered.

"I'm fine," he snapped, causing Justin to raise his hands in mock surrender and take a step back.

After a few more moments of struggling, Brian admitted defeat and told Justin he didn't mean to bite his head off, which was the Kinney way of apologizing and asking for help without really doing either. Luckily, Justin had become really good at understanding the Kinney language and went over to help him remove his shirt.

"You're pissed," he said softly, as he gently slid it from Brian's shoulders.

"No," Brian shook his head a little, "I'm not. It's just," he looked at Justin, pulling his lips into his mouth before saying, "yet again, we just seem to be struck with an anathema of bad timing."

"So you _are_ pissed."

"Not at you," Brian promised softly, making his way carefully towards the bathroom, fully aware that Justin was going to follow him, "just at whoever's writing this fucking script." He paused a moment as he undid his trousers, now that was something he could easily do with one hand, hell he could do it with his teeth if needs be. "The only reason I'd be pissed at you is if you don't go. You hear?"

Justin nodded solemnly.

"Right, so while I take a shower, you ring Bret Keller and tell him you'll be there as soon as he needs you."

Justin smiled then, a strange smile that he couldn't prevent because, even though he felt bad about leaving Brian, his excitement at going to Hollywood was shining through. Brian smiled too and watched him walk over to the phone. A pang of regret hit Brian hard in the stomach like a punch from a heavy weight boxer but he ignored it. He had to let Justin do what was right for him, however much he wanted Justin with him, he knew he had to let him go. He cared about him too much to keep him in Pittsburgh when the bright lights of Hollywood were calling. And Brian was sure that it wouldn't be 'goodbye' just … 'later'.

* * *

**This is actually the third 'moment' I wrote (after episode 210 and 211) so I really hope you like it! (I know what you're thinking … and no, chronology and logic have NEVER been my strong points).**

**SEASON FIVE IS COMING SOON and then this fic will be all over and I'll have to go and find something else to do with my spare time (like perhaps finish my other QAF fics *palm face*).**

**Write soon!  
****InconspicuousBunny…xx**


	70. Season 5 Episode 501

**I was gonna wait a bit before I posted season 5 but, seeing as I finished writing the last chapter of this fic today, I decided I'd celebrate with a little uploading!**

**It's only short so the next chapter will be up in the next couple of hours as an apology! (I think this is the shortest chapter yet, having said that, I think I've written more longer moments for season five so, hopefully, you'll all forgive me.**

* * *

_Set some time after Brian gets the phone call in the backroom._

_oOoOo_

Brian had walked with Michael for a while. His best friend was spouting some kind of bullshit that Justin would come home to him, that he loved him that it would be okay that Brian shouldn't give up hope. It was all stuff Brian had told himself when he was in his bed alone at night. He'd had no idea how much he would miss the younger man when he wasn't around until it happened. He had his cell on the loudest setting at all times so he'd never miss any of Justin's calls. He'd planned a trip to see him. He'd kept all the stuff that Justin had forgotten in the loft exactly as they were. He'd kept space in the wardrobe and draws for Justin's stuff. He'd thought it would make him feel like Justin was coming back but so far it had only reminded him how empty his life was without him.

Brian had believed that as time went on it would get easier but it had only become more and more difficult. He knew he wasn't fooling anyone as he strolled around pretending everything was fine. He knew that he and Justin were growing apart and he didn't want to keep beating up his heart with the stupid hope that maybe Justin would return to him. Fuck! He, Brian, wouldn't come back to Pittsburgh if he was living in Hollywood. He knew that although Justin loved him and would phone him all the time, they'd grow apart eventually. They were busy men but what scared Brian more than not being with Justin was Justin staying single in Hollywood waiting for him. He decided that Justin needed to move on with his life. They both did.

They'd been stuck in this going nowhere time warp of a relationship for far too long. Love wasn't enough to keep two people together, that had been proven over and over again. So, with a bitter feeling in his heart and a disturbing feeling of finality, Brian picked up the phone and cancelled his plane tickets. It was time Justin moved on with his life, it was time Brian stopped holding him back.

* * *

**Thought I'd begin season 1 with a bit of a pole … does anyone else have the problem that when they try to type the word **_**brain **_**they accidentally type **_**Brian. **_**Or has my Brian obsession just gotten too much?**


	71. Episode 502

_Set straight after the scene where Justin gets home from LA and finds Brian fucking._

_oOoOo_

Brian pulled out of the random trick, who flopped boneless to the bed before demanding,

"who's this?"

To which Brian responded coldly with, "none of your fucking business," and "get out."

Justin just grinned. He loved it when Brian was bossy and he always grinned to himself when Brian was unnecessarily rude to a trick. He knew that nearly five years ago _he'd_ been that nameless trick to be insulted but everything had changed now. Now, he was returning to a grin and a glint in his partners eyes that told him he was a welcome return.

The trick looked hurt and angry but Justin wasn't particularly bothered and Brian obviously couldn't have given a shit as he strolled over to Justin and kissed him deeply and whispered,

"welcome home Sunshine," in his ear. Then he snapped at the trick to 'hurry the fuck up' before disappearing into the bathroom.

Justin just smiled awkwardly at the trick as he dropped his bag onto the bed, unzipping the flap and beginning to unpack his stuff.

"So what, you live here?" The trick asked somewhat bitterly as he searched around the room looking for his clothes.

"Sort of," Justin replied because he wasn't entirely sure where he was with Brian right now. He guessed that the offer of them living together from before he left for Hollywood would still stand but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

"I thought Kinney didn't fuck anyone more than once," the trick said in the same tone.

"Except me," Justin beamed a little smugly.

"I heard there was an exception," the man said. "I also heard you'd fucked off."

"You heard wrong," Justin said raising his voice a little.

The trick looked up suddenly, a glint in his eye as he realised he'd stumbled upon a weak spot of the other man.

"So you _did _fuck off," the trick said triumphantly, pulling a pair of jeans from the floor and checking the label to make sure they were his before pulling them on.

"Fuck off," Justin scowled. He took a jumper out of his bag and went to put it in the wardrobe in a somewhat feeble attempt to ignore the trick.

"Feeling threatened?" The trick asked.

"No," Justin snapped, just as Brian appeared out of the bathroom stark bollock naked, drying his hair with a towel.

"Who are you talking to?" Brian asked, not looking at, or even acknowledging, the trick.

"This fucking asshole," Justin said, nodding his head towards the guy, who was still looking around for his shirt.

"I'm going to call the cops in a minute," Brian said calmly, throwing his towel to the floor and bending down to pick up a pair of pants and pull them on. "I've told him to leave and he's refusing. I think that's trespassing."

The trick moved quickly then, fumbling with his clothes and tripping over the steps as he rushed to leave. Justin watched him go with a smug smirk but Brian just carried on as though this were just another day, pulling on a shirt and jacket and knotting his tie.

"Where are you going?" Justin asked.

"Kinnetic," Brian said, "some idiot in the art department managed to fuck up an entire campaign so now _I _have to fix it." He sighed angrily, picking up a file from his computer desk and walked towards the door. "I'll see you this evening?"

"Sure," Justin grinned widely and Brian couldn't help but smile back.

"Good," he smirked, "I've got plans for us."

Justin beamed even wider if that were possible and with that, Brian slid the door shut and went down to his car.

Justin sat on the bed for a moment, looking at his bag. Maybe he _shouldn't _unpack now. Brian might be angry if Justin just assumed that he could move into the loft without really being asked. He zipped up his bag and pushed it into the wardrobe, carefully avoiding any expensive shoes. Then he led down and just enjoyed the feeling of being back on his side of the bed in Brian's loft. He felt like he was home. He missed Hollywood, he wished so hard that everything had worked out. He wished that they could have taken Rage to the masses. He wished all his hard work hadn't gone to waste but at the same time. He was glad to be back in the loft and he was glad to see Brian again but he wished that he was back in Hollywood, maybe with Brian at his side.

He looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly lunchtime so he decided to go to the Liberty Diner to avoid being alone with his own misery over the failed film. As soon as the gang asked him what it was like over there, he lied. He didn't want his family to know how devastated he was to be back. He didn't want them to know that the only person he'd _really_ missed was Brian, so he told them it sucked, he told them he hated it. He knew Brian would see through all these lies, especially as Justin had spoken to him on the phone so many times and told him how brilliant it was. Brian knew Justin better than anyone and Justin knew that Brian knew he would be devastated to be home but Justin vowed to make Brian realise that this still _was_ home to him. _Brian _was home to him.


	72. Episode 503

_Not really time specific, just set before Justin goes to help Michael and Ben get their new house in order._

_oOoOo_

The alarm clock went off in Justin's left ear and a warm, heavy weight rolled on top of him. He let out a quiet "oof" before the noise cut out and Justin opened his eyes to find himself looking up at his partner who was smiling down at him.

"Morning Sunshine," he said with a smile, running his hand through the blonde hair and then dipping his head to press his lips to Justin's. "And what are you doing today dear?" He asked sarcastically. Justin stretched a little, his hands falling onto his partner's back lazily and he started rubbing them up and down, fingers tracing the muscles in Brian's body.

"I was going to go over to Ben and Michael's."

"Ah, the stepford fags," Brian groaned, rolling off Justin and sitting up to get a shower. "And what will you being doing in the domestic underworld?"

"It's not that bad," Justin sighed, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "It's actually sort of … nice."

"Nice?" Brian asked, as though he'd never heard anything more insulting in his life. "_Nice_!" He repeated, walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Justin smiled a little bit, getting out of bed and following his partner into the shower.

"Yes nice," he chuckled, picking up the soap and rubbing it lightly on to Brian's chest. "It's a proper home."

"This is a proper home," Brian counter immediately, spinning Justin around and washing his back gently.

"Mmm," Justin hummed, his neck falling forward, allowing Brian better access. "I know," he said.

"So what are Mr and Mrs Perfect-Couple doing today?"

"Painting their living room."

"So they thought they'd hire an artist?" Brian smirked. "Are you gonna sign the wall? Maybe in a few years it'll be worth a fortune."

"Maybe…" Justin replied distantly.

"What's up with you? I thought you wanted to paint."

"I do," Justin sighed. "I just wasn't expecting my first project to be helping to paint a house."

"It won't be shit forever," Brian promised. "You're too good."

And before Justin could answer, Brian had left the shower and was drying himself off. Justin didn't follow him, he just stayed in the shower letting the water wash over him. He felt a bit like his life was going nowhere. He'd had this brilliant opportunity in Hollywood and now that it had all fallen through he felt like he'd taken a million steps backwards and had to start his career again. He didn't want to go back to college. He didn't feel like there was anything they could teach him anymore. He just wanted to get his name out into the art world but he wasn't sure how to do it and now he was painting a fucking house. It was just a spiral of shit and everything was going backwards except…

"I'll see you tonight at the club," Brian said with a sad smile as he thought about how useless the reopening of Babylon had been. Then he disappeared out of the bathroom. Justin heard the loft door shut and the elevator whirring.

There was a time when Brian walked out of the loft without even saying he was going and now Brian would tell him to be there when he got back. He'd always known that Brian loved him but as time went on, the older man was making it more and more obvious.


	73. Episode 504

_Set immediately after my absolute favourite scene of the entire five seasons - the diner  
__party at the Novotny-Bruckner place where Brian can't help but be an asshole!  
I want a Brian for when my mum and dad have a dinner party!_

oOoOo

"So, what's for dessert?" Brian smiled sweetly. Justin just closed his eyes for a long time and willed himself to wake up but he knew without question that this wasn't a dream or even a nightmare. This was just exactly who Brian Kinney was. He wouldn't pretend to be anything else, he wouldn't pretend to be a 'stepford fag' for even one night. He would just act like his normal arrogant, asshole self even if that meant upsetting Michael's new friends.

"Er, actually," the one named Monty said apologetically, "I think Eli and I are going to have to go." He turned to his partner, "doesn't the babysitter have to be home soon?"

"You know, I think she does," Eli lied back. It was clearly a lie, everyone around the table knew it but they all let it go except, well….

"You know, Justin and I could stay out all night if we wanted to. We never have to go back for the kids, do we dear?" He turned to Justin, who just stared back in disbelief. He clearly had _no _idea what to do in this particular situation but with Eli, Monty, Michael and Ben all looking to him to do _something._ He said slowly,

"No, but that's our decision." Then, he took his eyes of Brian and looked to Eli and Monty. "I think it's great to see families like you," he said honestly. "You're paving the way for the rest of us to have kids."

Monty and Eli stared at him like he'd gone crazy but it was Brian's reaction that drew the most attention. He snorted with laughter and got immediately to his feet.

"Christ," he said angrily. "We better get out of here, it seems hetero-fag is a contagious disease. Come on Justin," but he hadn't needed to call the younger man. He'd already been on his feet with his coat pulled on. Justin disappeared into the kitchen, where Michael was 'fixing dessert'. He heard Brian tap the box and then say,

"well, if you boys don't want this, do you mind if I take it home?"

"Not at all," was Ben's polite response.

"I'm sure it'll get plenty of use at your place," was either Monty or Eli's snooty, disgusted reply.

"Oh don't worry Eli…." Brian started.

"Actually, I'm Eli."

"Don't worry Eli," Brian said more forcibly, "it'll get plenty of use at our house aaaaaaaaaall," he drawled the word making it longer than necessary, "night!" He snapped the 't' at the end of the word between his teeth in a way that made a shiver run down Justin's spine despite himself. It didn't matter how angry he was at Brian, his body always betrayed him but tonight hadn't been about Brian, though he'd made it about him. It was supposed to be about Michael merging his past and his present together and now Justin could see, Michael was in equal parts devastated and furious.

"I'm so sorry," the younger man said, squeezing Michael's shoulder gently. "I didn't know he was going to act like that and I thought the present was for JR. If I'd have known it was…"

"It's okay," Michael interrupted with a small smile. "It wouldn't have mattered if you had known. I know how hard it is to stop Brian Kinney when he's got an idea in his head. I'd rather wage war on McDonalds than Brian."

Justin grinned a bit but it was a bit weak and pathetic. "Still, I'm sorry he ruined your evening."

"He'd be pissed if he knew you were apologising on his behalf," Michael laughed. "What an old married couple thing to do?"

Justin smiled. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind that," he grinned, looking through the gap to see Brian carefully folding the sling back into the box so he could take it home again, "despite everything."

Justin felt Michael's hand on his shoulder. "You know, I don't think he's ever going to…" he trailed off. He didn't really want to piss all over the kids dream but he needn't have worried. After all, Justin might be an artist and a romantic and even a bit of a fantasist but he was still a realist.

"I know," Justin sighed. "He's Brian Kinney. I know what that means. I know who he is."

"You know him better than I do now," Michael said wistfully.

Justin looked at Michael with a faux-angelic voice and said, "I've always known him better than you do. You were just to stupid to realise it." Then he grinned widely, which left Michael shaking his head and muttering 'asshole' fondly as he watched Justin grab Brian's arm and all but drag him from the house saying goodbye to everyone and silently apologizing on his way.

Michael returned to the dining room and continued to have dessert in relative harmony, though the dancing pink elephant by the name of Brian Kinney that everyone was avoiding made for a somewhat stilted conversation now and again and Michael, if he was honest, had his mind on other things. Tonight, he'd really realised how far apart he and Brian had grown. He looked at Brian and it was like seeing himself five years ago, himself ten years ago, himself fifteen years ago. Brian hadn't changed, he was a perpetual Peter Pan, except, unlike Peter, he was aging. Okay, so he was in great shape and maybe if he worked out and ate right and cut back on drugs and drink he could look that good for a couple more years but eventually, it would fade and Michael hoped for Brian's sake that Justin would still be there for him because otherwise, his best friend was going to fade into a lonely, old man and Michael had a horrible feeling there'd be some kind of repeat of his thirtieth birthday eventually, maybe on the arival of the first grey hair or, god forbid, the first wrinkle.

Michael was glad that Brian had Justin. He'd decided a long time ago that he could never have put up with the things Justin did or have told Brian just what a shit he was being when the time called for it. Yeah, he still had a place in his heart that would always be in love with Brian and that was the reason he was still persevering with this somewhat doomed friendship but that was all it was now.

* * *

"What? You're not going to talk to me?"

Justin didn't answer immediately. He just looked out of the window for a moment, then at the dashboard ahead of him and then at his lap before saying,

"did you have to do that?"

"Do what?" Brian asked, in such an infuriatingly 'innocent way' that Justin just muttered,

"Never mind," and abruptly gave up on the conversation. The silence that followed was thick and heavy like baking humidty before the mother of all storms.

Eventually, the angry silence got on Brian's nerves. He turned the music up and tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs along to the beat but his timing was off. Quite frankly, he hated this goddamn song and it wasn't making the journey any less awkward. He pulled up outside the loft and Justin got out in silence. They were silent in the lift up to the loft and then Justin opened the door to the loft and left it open for Brian to stagger through the entrance with the fucking sling box balancing in his arms. He let it fall ungraciously to the floor and looked at the twink.

"You could have helped me carry it," he accused.

"You could have not bought it in the first place," Justin snapped back angrily and Brian knew they were about to argue and he steadied himself for a shouting match but for now, he'd stay calm,

"A misunderstanding," he said nonchalantly. "What was I supposed to think? When two queers say playroom I immediately assume…"

"You didn't assume shit," Justin shouted over the top of his lies and Brian drew his lips into his mouth and waited. "You just wanted to shove your goddamn anti-hetero lifestyle down all their throats."

"Well, it was that or my dick so…"

"Stop it!" Justin interrupted again. "Just stop," he almost begged. "We all know how you feel, you didn't have to ruin Michael and Ben's dinner to make the point."

"You call it ruined I call it saved."

Justin just pulled a disappointed face and shook his head. Brian found it hurt him more than it should have because despite what he might say, Justin's opinion was incredibly important to him. "You know," the younger man sighed exasperatedly, "you're gonna lose him if you carry on. He's not gonna put up with your shit forever."

Suddenly, Brian had a horrible feeling they weren't only talking about Michael. His lips drew into a tight line and he focused his angry eyes on his partner. "Does that go for you too?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Justin scorned quietly. "How could you even ask that?"

Brian shrugged and turned his back on the younger man to avoid getting into any deep emotional conversation. "Everyone seems to be settling down, there are no honest to god fags left, except me and you."

"Maybe they've found the grass is greener on the other side?"

"Or maybe, they've given up on life and are now just practicing being dead until the real thing comes along."

"Brian."

"But, Sunshine," he scowled continuing as though Justin hadn't opening his mouth, "if you think they've got it right, then why not find some twinkie to settle down with and become another one of the brigades of dickless fags."

"I never said that that was what I wanted!" Justin shot back irritably. "I want you. I _love_ you!"

"I'm never gonna be like them," Brian warned him carefully.

Justin looked at the floor, his feet shuffling a little before nodding shallowly and whispering, "I know. I - I don't care."

Brian knew it was a lie. They both did but he didn't want to dwell on it, if Justin was happy for now then he was going to grab this situation with both hands and make the most of it. That is, if the 'situation' is Justin and the 'making the most of it' is fucking.

Brian stepped in closer and looked down at the younger man before crashing their mouths together in a fiercely passionate kiss. When he pulled away, Justin was breathless and Brian looked sexy as ever. He was leaning to kiss and suck at his partner's neck when he felt a hand in his chest.

"Wait," Justin said, pushing him away. "Promise me you'll make it up to Michael."

Brian's face looked disgusted.

"Brian, I'm being serious."

And Brian could tell the younger man meant it.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll make it up to him at the SuperHeroes Night at Babylon."

Justin nodded, "okay."

It didn't take them long to stumble their way naked to the double bed and do a little bit of one-on-one super hero role play, in which JT was caught in the leather-sling-web of his arch nemesis 'Big Daddy' and Rage had to save him the only way he knew how.

* * *

**I'm going away for the weekend (I'm such a little jet setter recently haha) so the next update won't be until Sunday at the earliest! Have a good weekend everyone! =D **

**xx**


	74. Episode 505

_Set after Brian tells Justin he has Syphilis._

_oOoOo_

* * *

Justin came back from the doctors with mixed feelings about his test result. Okay, so he was syphilis free but Brian wasn't and it was really beginning to hit Justin what that actually meant. Okay, Justin wasn't monogamous either but he was nowhere near as promiscuous as Brian and recently Justin had found his need to fuck lots of different beautiful guys just a little less consuming. He still enjoyed the odd threesome, he liked the opportunity to top once in a while because Brian almost never allowed that. But sitting around waiting for the doctors as he'd looked his first sexual disease in the face, he also realised he was fed-up of sitting around waiting for Brian to change. And, just like that, surrounded mainly by stupid breeders kids who'd gotten pregnant, Justin had realised, he was waiting for something that was never, ever going to come. He was waiting for Brian to make a commitment he could never make. He loved Brian, he'd always love Brian but he was totally fed-up of waiting. He'd watched as a girl ahead of him, who couldn't have been more than about fourteen, burst into tears as she was told she was indeed pregnant and Justin had just scowled at her. She'd been stupid, she'd fucked up … just like him. She'd probably fucked some older guy she should never have trusted. He'd probably never promised her anything but she'd probably believed something completely different in her heart. And then Justin had realised that he and the girl were in exactly the same situation, only it wasn't a baby that Brian had given him, it was syphilis. For one fucked up moment, Justin had thought the girl actually had it better than he did as her mother wrapped her arms around her pregnant daughter's shoulders and held her tight and told her she loved her no matter what.

As he heard those words, Justin felt sick. At that moment that girl just needed to be told that her mother still loved her and she got what she needed immediately. Justin had needed to be told that Brian loved him for almost five years and still he was waiting … he would always be waiting, waiting for Brian, waiting for love, waiting for test results.

Eventually, the doctor had called him in then and told him his test results were clear and that everything was fine. Justin had scowled at that statement. His test results may be clear but everything definitely was _not _fine.

He made his way home slowly, trying not to over think the situation with Brian too much and by the time he walked through the loft door he felt better.

"Everything alright?" Brian asked from behind his computer, as soon as the younger man slid the door open. To his credit, Brian looked genuinely concerned and Justin had no doubt Brian would hate himself if he'd given anything to Justin.

"I'm fine," Justin said calmly. Brian nodded silently and went back to his work. They didn't say anything else. It had been like this ever since the syphilis thing came up. They'd both been sullenly refusing to talk about anything beyond what was completely necessary, Justin because he always ended up angry with Brian's refusal to commit and Brian because he was sick of the way the conversation always went.

"You know," Justin said, sitting down on the sofa with a beer, "there were loads of pregnant kids there."

Brian looked up from his work with a somewhat suspicious look on his face, wondering just where Justin was taking this. So, cautiously, he replied, "just one of the few benefits of being a fag."

"So you'd never want kids?"

"No," Brian looked disgusted by even the thought of the idea. "If I were meant to have had kids, I'd have been born a woman … or Michael," he smirked to himself. "But, luckily for you," he said, getting up and walking over to Justin, "I wasn't, I was born a fag so I'll live like a fag."

"What about a puppy?"

Brian just gave Justin a look so disgusted, Justin would have laughed had this not been so serious in his mind. Then the older man had said,

"do you have _any _idea Italian motor furniture costs?"

"A lot?" Justin sighed.

"Too much to risk it getting pissed on by some stupid fucking mutt."

Justin nodded and allowed his head to fall over the back of the sofa as Brian moved behind him and kissed in a weird upside down action. The older man walked to the bedroom saying,

"now, I must go to the gym to keep the limited health I have left in tact and this fucking fantastic body."

"Don't you ever get fed-up with all this?" Justin asked, referring to the obsession with looks and fucking and tricks and appearance.

"What? Having money, a nice place, expensive furniture, the car of dreams, the freedom to fuck who I want when I want and not have to answer to anyone?" Brian said the last bit with a bit of an edge as though warning Justin to drop this fucking topic, "erm … no, not really."

Justin sighed. He really couldn't be bother to have this discussion again. Sometimes trying to get his point through to Brian was like banging his head on a brick wall. In fact, banging his head on a brick wall would probably achieve more.

"Fine," he sighed, "enjoy the gym."

Brian was sick of it. He was sick of all this talk of commitment and settling down. He was sick of it from Michael, he was sick of it from Ted at work, he was sick of it from Debbie and Lindsey, Ben and even Emmett but most of all he was sick of it from Justin.

When he got home in the evening after feeling like he'd been chased through the day by the word commitment he did not appreciate coming home and having the same old tired conversation with Justin. It was all they'd talked about for what seemed like forever though Brian was pretty sure he could pinpoint the change coming when he asked Justin to move in. Fuck! Maybe that had been a mistake, maybe he'd given Justin idea's and expectations of monogamy that Brian wouldn't fulfil but he'd wanted Justin there when he came home at night, he wanted his clothes in his wardrobe and his artwork all over the floor, not that it wasn't almost always there anyway. He didn't want Justin to feel like he'd ever have to leave but since the move, Brian could help feel that Justin seemed to be closer to leaving than ever before.

It was totally fucked. Every time he looked in Justin's eyes now he could see a silent disappointment twinkling just below the surface. He almost felt like they were pulling in two different directions with only a elastic band keeping them together and the longer time went on the more stretched band became, he could see the white stress marks where the band was over stretched, he could see the fraying edges where it was being pulled too tightly. He knew that one or the other would have to give in soon so the band could snap them back together because if neither caved, eventually the band would snap and they'd be apart. Brian couldn't stand the thought of that, he didn't want to imagine what that moment would be like, so instead of acknowledging the over-stretched rubber band, he looked away and pretended he couldn't see it. He was a coward … unfortunately for Brian however, Justin was not. It would only be a matter of time before Justin drew attention to the problem but until then, Brian vowed to live out every moment he had with the younger man with everything he had.


	75. Episode 506

_Set before the boys go to the Novotny-Bruckner housewarming_

_oOoOo_

"Soooo," Brian drawled as he downed his third beer. He was going to fucking need it to brave even a second of Michael's goddamn housewarming party. "What did you get Mr and Mrs Ben Bruckner?"

"I went with candle holders and scented candles."

"Scented candles," Brian repeated as though the words made him sick. "How … lesbionic. Or like Emmet."

"Well, I didn't know what to get and you were no fucking use at all."

"Hey," Brian raised his hands in surrender, "I bought them a present and they didn't like it."

"It was a fucking sling, Brian," Justin snapped as he tied black ribbon around the silver package.

"They're queers. They should want a sling, not," he looked disgustedly at the present, "scented candles."

Justin just rolled his eyes put the package on the table before going to pull on his shoes. Brian had been in a pissy mood ever since the 'incident' in the backroom and Justin was sick of it. One fucking guy, one trick rejecting Brian had caused all this bullshit over reaction. Why couldn't Brian get the fuck over and look at what he had rather than what he didn't have? But that wasn't Brian's way. They'd rowed like hell just because Justin needed to convince Brian that going to Michael's party was important. Eventually, Brian had caved but he was still in a mood now, despite his mellow mood. Though Justin was sure that had a lot to do with the beers he'd drunk and the joint he'd smoked.

Brian was still ranting about his anti-marriage views but Justin had tuned it out. He was getting seriously nervous about what would happen when Brian saw 'The Marriage Issue' of Rage. He had no doubt there'd be some kind of fall out, or worse still, no reaction what so ever. Justin had watched as all their friends began to settle down. They were in relationships that were committed and monogamous. They were married, they only needed each other and he and Brian were … well. They were where they were always going to be. Justin knew that there was no commitment ceremony in their future there was just … this. Justin wanted to get married but the problem was that he wanted to be married to Brian and that was an impossible request.

"… they'll have to castrate me before I'm dickless enough to get married." Brian ended and Justin almost considered it for a moment.

"Some people can actually be happy just with one person," Justin muttered to himself as he waited by the door.

"What was that Sunshine?"

"Nothing," Justin smiled weakly. "Ready to go?"

"If we must."


	76. Episode 507

_Set after Michael and Brian's EPIC bust-up in Michael's house._

_oOoOo_

"He left because of you … who wouldn't?"

And Brian had broken. Not visibly, not so that anyone who didn't know him exceptionally well would be able to tell but this was Michael. Michael who knew all his secrets. Michael who knew how to hurt him, by dragging up the one thing that really got to Brian Kinney. His past. Brian had spent his whole childhood wondering why the people he thought he loved and whom were supposed to love him, constantly left him and abandoned him. Okay, so he stayed in the same house as his parents but he could go for weeks without really seeing either of them. His mother was always too drunk to notice him, his father out all the time with many of the woman he fucked outside the marriage. They'd left him. They'd never cared. Then his sister, the one who'd dragged him up through life. She changed her mind as soon as she discovered he was gay when he was fifteen. Over and over again, Brian had been left and he'd never understood what was so wrong with him. So, eventually, he'd built up walls and defences so he'd never have to feel like that again. And then _he'd _come along.

He'd endured everything Brian threw at him, battled through all the bullshit until Brian had found the younger man wedged so firmly in his heart he knew if he tried to pull him out, he'd probably bleed to death. So now that he'd left, this was the biggest amount of pain Brian had ever dealt with. He'd never cared about anyone as much as he'd cared about Justin and to lose him was more hurt than he could deal with. He'd resorted to his usual methods; drowning his sorrows in cheap booze, going to the backroom and fucking his brains out, taking everything and anything that Anita could throw at him but none of it was enough. He couldn't numb this, it was far too deep so that's how he'd ended up at Michael's drunk out of his mind, high as a fucking kite and with no idea how to deal with it so he'd blamed the person closest to him, determined to sever any kind of love he felt for anyone now. It was obvious that nothing lasted and he couldn't go through anything like this again. He lashed out at Michael and for the first time ever, Michael had truly lashed back. He'd spat out the words before he'd even considered what they'd do to his oldest friend but as soon as he said them, he saw the hurt on Brian's face and he knew he'd broken an already broken man.

He'd just watched as Brian had left his house and was sickeningly numb. He realised, with a sudden sledgehammer bang that he felt nothing for Brian at that moment in time. It was just complete indifference. It wouldn't be until he was lying in bed later that evening or earlier the next morning, that he'd realised underneath everything that he still loved Brian but it just wasn't the same anymore. But his feelings didn't matter at that moment, because it was at that moment that he looked up and spotted Justin.

"Hot chocolate?" He offered with a bit of a forced smile. "We've got marshmallows."

Justin nodded a little, "that would be great, thanks." And he descended the steps towards him.

* * *

Fucking Michael! Fucking Justin! Fucking shit! He kicked at the flowers in Michael and Ben's happy-hetro home. And stamped on a few more just for good measure. Fucking flowers!

He could barely think straight he was so angry. He was so hurt. But he wasn't thinking about that. He wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't give Michael the smug satisfaction of thinking Brian Kinney actually gave a shit about him … or Justin … or anything. He slammed the gate to the front garden with all his strength. The thing slammed shut, letting out a loud bang through the stepford fag neighbourhood. He noticed a few curtains twitch. He was sure Eli and fucking Monty would be there watching his demise on a street. Well, fuck 'em. He didn't give a shit what a few house proud frat-fags thought of him. He didn't care what anyone thought of him.

He was a fucking mess! So fucking what?

No one cared. Not Michael. Not Justin. Not his Goddamn parents. It was all bullshit! Everything. But there was a whiskey bottle waiting at the loft for him. And a million beautiful men all waiting to be fucked! He'd be fine. Because he was a fag, he was a queer and he was NEVER going to let the straight world change him! It wasn't like it could take anything else from him. There was nothing left to take! The straight world had taken it all; his parents, his best friend, his lover. It was all gone, snatched away by stupid fucking breeder mentalities!

* * *

Michael placed a very over the top marshmallowy, flakey, hot chocolate covered in cream and hundreds and thousands in front of his house guest. Justin stared at the masterpiece in amazement.

"It's the Novotny special," Michael explained. "We only make it on very worthwhile occasions."

"And Brian Kinney going insane in your house is a worthy occasion," Justin stated, taking a sip of his drink.

"Nice?" Michael inquired, deciding to ignore Justin's comment.

"Perfect," the younger man nodded. Though he seemed too melancholy to form any real opinion. And he was too numb to really taste. He just didn't want to upset anyone, there'd been too much of that already tonight.

"So," Michael said, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate, "did we wake you?"

"No," Justin sighed. "I couldn't sleep."

"Was it the bed?" Michael fussed immediately. "Was it the pillows? Or the duvet, was it too thick?"

Justin smiled a little.

"What?" Michael demanded.

"Nothing, you just reminded me of Deb then," he gave a forced grin, and went back to staring at his drink.

"Well …." Michael said taking another long sip of his drink.

"And it wasn't the bed or the pillows or the duvet," Justin said. "That was all fine it just wasn't … home," he finished sadly. Justin had never really understood the phrase 'home is where the heart is' before but now he did. Now he knew he'd never feel like he belonged anywhere except where Brian was. He knew the loft was his home but at the same time, he knew he couldn't stay in that lethal timewarp that surrounded Brian Kinney. Justin was growing up, he had ambitions and dreams but Brian refused to look forward he just wanted everything to stay as it was or even go backwards. He didn't want to change and Justin couldn't live with that anymore.

"He looked miserable Michael," Justin said eventually. "Really miserable."

"He loves you," Michael shrugged matter-of-factly.

"So why couldn't he just say it?" Justin groaned. "Why wasn't I ever enough?"

"You were enough," Michael replied honestly. "He's just a coward with a past that's fucked him up more than he'll let anyone know."

Justin nodded mutedly. He knew that of course. It hadn't changed anything before and it wouldn't change anything now. The only way Brian would change was some kind of genetic altercation or a near-death experience but Justin had already had one of those and he didn't fancy another. He looked at the melting, marshmallow mess in his mug and felt suddenly full. He didn't really feel like talking to Michael anymore. He didn't really want to think about Brian anymore. He missed him more than words could express but he had to get over it. He just had to.

"I'm going to go to bed," Justin said quietly, pushing himself to his feet.

"Okay then," Michael replied softly watching as his friend padded towards the stairs. "Sleep well."

Justin almost snorted at the ironey. Sleep well, as if! In fact, Justin didn't get to sleep until the streetlamps had gone out and the birds had started singing and even then the sleep was restless and filled the image that he was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life; that sad smile Brian had given him as he had slid the blue, loft door shut for the last time.


	77. Episode 508

_Set during the Stop Prop 14 campaign - some time after Justin is arrested! And Brian has just beaten Brandon in the 'fuck-off'._

_oOoOo_

He'd been drinking. And cruising. And he'd chosen his prey. Tall, dark hair, dark skin, muscley; nothing like a certain blonde he'd forgotten all about. He'd been having a good day until he left Woodies. He'd one the fuck off and was still undisputed stud of Liberty Avenue. He'd chosen his celebratory trick and was now heading home to make good use of this glorious, victorious Saturday afternoon. And then, everything turned shit as he managed to stumble straight into Michael and Ben. It was the middle of the day, he was drunk and he did not need their superior bullshit right now.

The tension was suffocating as Brian and Michael stood inches apart staring each other down, both looking like they had a million and one things to say, neither saying anything. Ben, however, had decided that it might be better to make peace with Brian, so he tried to break the ice.

"Brian, leaving already?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Michael huffed and stormed off. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with Brian ever again. He didn't want to even hear him speak.

"I'm making it an early evening," Brian drawled. "I have a lot to _do_ back at the loft." He looked pointedly at the trick who seemed to melt before Ben's eyes. Well, Brian still had it … whatever _it_ was.

"I'm sure," Ben said, his forced non-judgmental smiling pissing Brian off more than Michael's hissy fit.

"You know," Brian said, "I'm surprised to see you boys in the pubs at this time of the day … or at all. Isn't there some laundry to be done? Something more … _domesticated_." He said the last word as though there were no bigger insult.

"We're celebrating," Ben said steadily, "and commiserating."

"Huh? Well I'm celebrating too," Brian smirked, putting a hand on his trick's shoulder. "Celebrating that, unlike many of my old so-called friends, I still have a dick and know how to use it. And that that fucker Brandon hasn't quite caught up with me yet. There's no _commiserating _to be done in fag land."

"Mmm," Ben mumbled. He didn't care how much he couldn't stand Brian at this moment in time, he thought the man had a right to know what had happened to his former partner. "We've been boycotting businesses all morning," he informed Brian slowly.

"Congratulations," mocked Brian and the trick smirked.

"One business anyway," Ben continued, choosing to ignore Brian's drunken idiocy, "Taylor Electronics." Brian's eyes sharpened immediately, he stood up a little straighter, looked just a little more interested. Good, he clearly knew what that meant and the anger was obvious despite his drunkenness. So Ben continued, "but we had to stop when Craig Taylor had Justin arrested."

Brian's mouth set in a firm line but all he said was, "well, that's a shame Professor. But I've always said helping other people, and that includes boycotts is hazardous to your health." Under his breath he added, "and apparently your freedom. However," he finished grandly, "I myself, have more pressing things to deal with. See you later, Professor."

And with that, he push the trick, stumbling and groping down the steps of Woodies and towards his loft.

oOoOo

"You have to leave," Brian said as soon as he'd finished with his trick.

"Can't I at least have…"

"I said fuck off," Brian snapped.

"Asshole," the trick muttered as he got up and began to pull his clothes on.

"I have things I need to do," Brian said slowly, getting to his feet in walking towards his desk.

"You've got another guy waiting outside?"

Brian shot the trick a 'what the fuck are you still doing here' look and went back to his computer. This was important. Very important. Whether he believed in this shit or not, he wanted to protect the people he cared about.

oOoOo

After Woodies, Ben and Michael had gone back out on the streets drumming up any support they could for Stop Prop 14, whilst Jennifer Taylor kept them up to date on what was happening with her son. She was, understandably, completely torn up by what had happened. Her son in a cell, her ex-husband to blame. It was like a worst nightmare gone wrong. She wasn't even allowed to talk to Justin but she'd sure as hell screamed at Craig, begging him to drop the charges. He ignored her and said simply, 'he had it coming'.

So Ben had told her to keep in contact and he'd help out as much as he could.

"I can't even afford the bail," Jennifer sobbed. "I think Craig will drop the charges eventually but he's not doing anything yet."

"I'll see what I can do," Ben had promised, not expecting that to be very much.

When he and Michael got back to the house that night there was an envelope on floor waiting for them. It read BEN BRUCKNER all in neat, perfect capitals; the letters of someone trying to hide their handwriting?

Ben ripped it open and almost choked in shock. There was a blank check inside with a note that simply said;

"Get him out of there, Professor."

"Everything okay honey?" Michael asked as he watched Ben's face blanch.

"It's fine. Good even. I have something I need to do."

Michael frowned, his nose wrinkling and his eyebrows knitting together.

"It's important," Ben apologized. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

And with that, he ran to the Presinct to give the money to Jennifer to bail Justin out. He didn't say where the money had come from. He knew Brian would want it that way so he kept it to himself. He didn't even mention it the day after when an important, official looking letter came through to the heads of the 'Stop Prop 14' campaign announcing that Kinnetic were going to back the campaign.

Ben just smiled to himself. Somewhere, deep, deep down, Brian Kinney was a good guy. Just … don't tell anyone.

* * *

**Okay, I'm going to Scottland for the weekend but i'll be back soon with the last few chapters! Thanks for reading this far!  
xx**


	78. Episode 509

_Set during Justin's art show … which is obvious from the first line._

_oOoOo_

Justin was sick of the art show now. He'd had enough of self-righteous assholes coming over to him and chatting at him in their pompous shit head ways. He'd had enough of his mother and fucking Tuck flaunting their sham of a relationship, if it could even be called that, right in front of his face. He needed a smoke, so he left the room and went to the small yard out the back so he could smoke in private. Of course, it wasn't private because _he _was there. He was facing the other way but Justin knew it was him; Brian Kinney, He was smoking what looked like a joint and for a moment, Justin thought about turning around and going back inside but then Brian spoke,

"want some?"

Justin paused for a second and then strolled towards him. "Sure," he said and took a long drag before handing it back.

"So what are you doing out here?" Brian asked, "shouldn't you be inside basking in the glory of your huge talent?"

Justin smirked a little but sighed heavily. "I can't. My fucking mother's brought her toyboy along."

"I saw that," Brian said, taking another hit and offering it back to Justin. "Tell me, is he … younger than me?"

"Yeah, he's half her fucking age."

"Your family really know how to pick 'em, don't they?" Brian said with a smirk.

"It's so wrong," Justin groaned, "especially after all the shit she gave me about …." He trailed off, he didn't want to refer to the two of them as an 'us'. He didn't want to give Brian the opportunity to talk it down or write it off as something less than it was. "What about you?" He asked suddenly, "what happened to that guy?"

"I guess," Brian said slowly, taking his joint back and taking a long drag before throwing the butt to the floor, "he wasn't the right kind of artsy type."

Justin nodded a little and the uncomfortable silence began to stretch between them.

"I saw you talking to Michael," he said eventually. "Are you two friends now?"

"No," Brian shook his head with a bitter laugh, "we are most definitely not 'friends now'."

"What happened?" Justin looked puzzled and Brian caught his gaze. Those blue eyes, still so innocent in spite of everything, and so wise in spite of his tender years and Brian found himself talking because this was Justin … even now, Justin was still someone safe to talk to.

"I apologized to him," Brian sighed. "But he threw it back in my face. Apparently, being friends all our lives is no reason to continue to be friends."

"I'm sorry," Justin said lamely. "I know how important he was to you."

"He's got his own life now," Brian shrugged. "And he's happy, that's all that matters." He paused for a moment before adding, "and you."

Justin looked up in surprise, he certainly hadn't expected that.

"Are you happy?"

Justin pulled a strained expression. It was a difficult question to answer. He didn't want to say 'no' because then, no doubt, Brian would feel guilty or try to fix it but he could say 'yes' because it would be entirely true because he wasn't happy, not without Brian, so he answered,

"I'm happy enough."

Brian nodded a little. "Good," he mumbled. He had nothing else to say and his joint was out so he had no reason to stay except to be near Justin and that would kill him if it lasted too long.

"Well," he said, moving back towards the gallery so he could leave. "I better get going, Babylon doesn't run itself."

Justin smiled weakly. "Have a good night," he called.

"You too," Brian replied.


	79. Episode 510

**There's a few different 'moments' from different bits of the episode.**

* * *

_Set somewhere between Ted finding out that Brian is all clear and before Justin and Brian see each other on the street._

_oOoOo_

"Hey."

"Justin?" Brian frowned, pushing the hair back from his face. The younger man hadn't rung since the split.

"Yeah, hi. I'm glad you're there I wasn't sure you'd still be at work."

"You know what Kinnetik's like, I'm _always _at work."

"Yeah," Justin smiled a little and though Brian couldn't see it, he knew that's how Justin would look. The silence seemed to hang until Brian prompted;

"Was there something that you wanted?"

"Oh, er yeah, I just wanted to say … congratulations."

"Not that I don't like receiving random bouts of admiration, what exactly is this for?"

"Oh. Erm, Ted told me you got the all clear."

"Oh," he sighed, "that."

"Aren't you happy?"

"Of course," Brian said, though his tone betrayed his words.

"Okay, well, I have to go. I'm putting fliers up for the Stop Prop 14 event."

"Ah, you always were a good little homo."

"Mm, anyway, I just wanted to say," he stopped. The air seemed to choke him for a moment before he said, "I'm glad you're okay … really glad."

"Thanks," Brian said slowly. Then the buzzing in his ear told him Justin had hung up. It was kind of becoming their thing to never say goodbye.

* * *

_Set as the news about Babylon comes through on the radio in Brian's taxi …_

_oOoOo_

He'd promised himself he wouldn't go to that street. He'd known Justin would be working there and he'd set out from Kinnetik with the distinct plan that he would _not _go near that road. It wouldn't have been difficult to avoid that place, in fact it was in exactly the wrong direction but he'd ended up there anyway and he'd watched Justin until the younger man had spotted him and come over to say 'hi'. Brian had told him about his trip to Australia and, in truth, that was the main reason he'd gone to that street. He hadn't been able to imagine leaving the country for weeks without getting a last chance to see Justin. But now, rushing down the street in a taxi, Brian couldn't stop himself from wondering if that fleetingly awkward conversation on a street corner really had been his last chance to see Justin … ever. Had it been his last opportunity to say something to the man he…? FUCK!

"Can't you go any fucking faster?" Brian suddenly screamed as the taxi drew to a halt again. It was excruciating. Every second he spent in that car was another second he was clueless about how Justin was. And he hoped he was okay, he willed him to be okay, he even found himself praying to gods and faiths he didn't believe in. But he was desperate and terrified and it's at those bleak times you turn to the higher power because begging some mythical non-entity makes you feel slightly less helpless but the reality is a little light turning red or green is controlling your destiny as the car speeds along a little further before stopping again. You are helpless. _He_ was helpless.

It probably wasn't as long as it seemed to get to what was left of Babylon but every second felt like an hour and every thumping, rapid heartbeat hurt just a little more and was making him just a little more fragile.

Please, God, please. Let him be okay. Please. Don't let anything happen to him. Not now. Please, not now.

And he felt selfish because fuck if he gave a shit about anyone else in the world right now. He just wanted to see that blonde hair and those blue eyes and he wanted to see them alive and undamaged.

"If you drive faster," Brian said suddenly, "I'll pay you double … triple. Do anything you can!"

The taxi driver looked at his well dressed passenger and noted the desperation in his eyes and he knew this guy was telling the truth.

"I'll see what I can do," he answered.

True to his word, the cabbie began to swerve and snake his way between cars, speeding up to avoid red lights and doing anything he could to get his fare to Liberty Avenue as soon as possible.

"The carnage down here is unbelievable," a voice on the radio was saying over the sound of fire engines, police sirens and blood curdling screams in the background. "There are men and women everywhere, family members are desperately seeking out loved ones. Everyone's chipping in doing what they can. Cyndi Lauper has been seen helping people all over the place. It really is a case of everyone clubbing together and doing what they can."

"Do they know what caused the explosion Jane?" A second studio voice asked.

"The police are more concerned about getting people out of the building and the casualties to safety at this time Mick, however the murmurs are that this was a bomb planted by the radical supporters of Prop 14. I've heard the phrase 'waging war' being thrown about by hysterical family members and that does seem to be the general feel among the gay community tonight. They feel like someone has declared war on them."

"It really is a terrible thing," the emotionless reporter deadpanned. "Are there many casualties so far?"

"Well, I'm not being told anything official but I do know there have been several fatalities and many more…."

"Turn it off," Brian snapped. He couldn't bear to hear anything else some stupid fucking breeder had to say on this. He had to see it for himself. He had to see him, Justin, standing there in front of him. He kept trying to phone the younger man but he wasn't picking up and Brian's brain was only letting him think the worst. He flashed back to the prom, he remembered holding Justin, kneeling there helpless, realising how close he'd come to losing him. He imagined the situation again, he imagined what he'd have done if Justin had never got up. He couldn't stand it. They came to another light and slowed to a standstill.

"Please," Brian begged. "Be as quick as you can."

"I'm trying, sir," the driver said. He seemed sympathetic but he was probably just after his triple wages. "Friend of yours there tonight?"

"My whole family are there tonight," Brian whispered.

"So why weren't you?"

"Because I actually believed that some stupid fucking peter pan principals were more important than…" Brian choked. Words completely failed him now. There were so many possible endings to that sentence; community, friends, family, love. But there was only one real ending in Brian's mind. There was only one thing in Brian's mind … Justin.

By the time they turned into the melee that was the Babylon car park, Brian was frantic. He searched the crowd desperately for blonde hair and that face he knew so well but he couldn't see it. Justin wasn't fucking there and all Brian could wonder was whether that beautiful face was still beautiful and still breathing. He spotted Jennifer. Shit! He ran to her and asked her where Justin was but she didn't know and he knew she was fucking terrified too. He started to scream and force his way inside. He didn't give a flying fuck if the building was going to collapse, he had to find Justin. If the building crushed him flat then at least he'd have died trying but he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't die never having told Justin that …. Justin couldn't die never knowing that he …. Fuck!

"JUSTIN!" He bellowed but no voice called back and then, through the dust, the rafters, the bloody bodies, the stench of burning and the stomach churning smell, he saw him. He was like a vision or an angel but he wasn't either of these things; he was real. So real! And Brian Kinney found himself thanking a God who didn't exist for a miracle he didn't believe in.

* * *

_Set after 'I love you'._

_oOoOo_

They'd just held each other for what seemed like hours both had tears on their face but neither drew attention to them. Justin could not believe that Brian Kinney had said those three words and meant them, because Justin had been able to see he meant them. And even though Justin had always known how Brian felt, hearing it had caused a sort of painful relief inside him. It was so emotional he almost forgot to breathe, that feeling you get when all you've ever wanted, all you've been fighting and battling for comes true. It was so good it caused him a twist in the gut so strong he thought he'd vomit but all he did was let himself go weak and let Brian hold him up.

Eventually, Brian decided he needed to go back to the hospital but he wanted Justin to get cleaned up first.

"Come with me," he said. He'd brought the corvette back to the club with him after getting Debbie to the hospital, it was cheaper than forking out ridiculous amounts of taxi fare.

The drive was silent and morbid but that was a feel around the whole of Liberty Avenue. They'd been attacked, their safe haven bombed and people had been killed and injured, not just people; Michael. Brian rubbed his eye suddenly pushing back a tear he didn't know had been trying to escape. His whole world had been shaken up tonight. Everything he knew, his constants had been taken away, Babylon and Michael both reduced to lifeless shadows. He felt Justin's hand on his leg, squeezing comfortingly and although it made him feel less alone it also made him realise how close he had been to losing Justin all over again.

"It wasn't your fault," Justin whispered, when they were walking into the loft and Brian was ignoring a call from Ted. After all, he'd only want to give a body count or a damage report, practical, reliable, important information but Brian didn't want to hear practical and reliable. It wasn't important now. Nothing was important now, except for getting to the hospital as soon as possible.

"Huh?" Brian asked distantly, as he pushed the phone back into his pocket.

"It wasn't your fault," Justin repeated softly, putting a hand on Brian's shoulder. "You weren't responsible for what happened."

"No," Brian said heavily. "It was just my club that was bombed, my bar staff that were killed, my security that let the bomber in. My best friend who's fighting for his life and you." He stopped and looked at the younger man, "I thought I'd lost you again."

"I'm right here," Justin promised, putting his head on Brian's shoulder and holding him tight.

"Mmm," Brian mumbled. Then, suddenly, he cleared his throat purposefully and pushed Justin away. It seemed the time for self-pity was over. "Go take a shower," he said, "we need to go."

_oOoOo_

Sitting in the waiting room waiting for word about Michael was a kind of hell that Brian had only experienced once before in his life and remembering that previous time made him grab Justin's hand, just to remind himself that he was still there. Of course, Justin was there and he squeezed Brian's hand with his fingers and rested his head on the older man's shoulders. He was still here and he still loved him.

Debbie eyed the two boys carefully. She had a strong feeling that something between them had changed not drastically, just subtly. Brian seemed to really need Justin right then and the younger man was there for him. Brian looked like Debbie felt, a fucking fall down. It was obvious he was as worried as she was but that didn't change the fact that he son, her little baby boy was battling for his life in a hospital bed. She wished that Carl was there, she wished she had someone with her to comfort her and that's when she noticed Brian and Justin stand up.

"I have to go to the club," Brian said croakily. "The police need to talk to me."

Debbie looked up and nodded carefully. "Okay kiddo, you do what you have to do."

"Er, let me know, please, if there's any change." She nodded again and Ben put his hand on Brian's shoulder.

And then something strange happened, the two men embraced. There's nothing like a tragic, tragic accident to bring two people together. As Brian began to leave, Justin chased after him.

"Brian," Justin called.

"Yeah?" Brian swung around as Justin virtually leapt into his arms and kissed him.

"I love you too, you know that, don't you?"

Brian nodded and gave a watery smile. "Now, go and sit with Deb. She looks like she could use a ray of sunshine about now."


	80. Episode 511

_Set immediately before 'will you marry me?' in Justin's flat._

_oOoOo_

"I hope you get better soon," Brian was saying into the receiver. "Because I need your ass to finish the new Iconic Optics campaign." There was a pause and Brian smiled at whatever was being said. "Okay, bye."

"Sorry," Brian said apologetically as he looked up at Justin. "I've been trying to get though to him all day."

"Who was it?"

"Phil, from the art department."

"Phil Lanning?" Justin asked, thinking back to the time he'd spent working for Brian at Vanguard. Brian had stolen the best of Vanguard's art department as well as everything else and Phil had been one of the people that had helped Justin out the most whilst there.

Brian nodded.

"Shit," Justin mumbled. "I liked him, he was always so happy. Is he going to be okay?"

"He's gonna be fine," Brian confirmed. "He just has to rest for a while. Not even being trampled can keep him down."

"That's a relief," Justin smiled going back to his painting.

Brian looked around. "I like how you've kept all the original features."

* * *

_Set immediately __**after**__ 'will you marry me?' in Justin's flat._

_oOoOo_

Brian just stood there for a few moments and looked carefully at the younger man. As he'd said it, he wasn't 100% sure he wanted to marry Justin. He'd just known he couldn't live without him. Now, he knew that he had to marry him, wanted to marry him. He could live without tricks, he could live without the clubs and all the shit but he couldn't live without Justin. Not now … not ever. This had only made him more determined, more resolute to prove to Justin that he loved him, to prove that he could be the man he needed him to be. He had to make some changes to his life, sell a few things but he was _going _to make this happen.

"Well, I guess I better get going."

Justin looked a little surprised but he just nodded.

"I guess, I'll see you at the vigil tonight," Brian said softly.

"Yeah. See you there."

* * *

_Set in Brian's car as he and Ben drove away from the vigil._

_oOoOo_

It had been a mess. Those fag-hating assholes had turned up and Ben had lost it. He'd never been so angry in his life. It was as though all the hatred he had in the world had all boiled up inside him at that moment and now, sitting in Brian's car as the other man drove him away before he could get arrested, common sense was starting to kick in.

He threw the half smoked cigarette out of the window looked at Brian.

"Are your hands okay now?" Brian asked, lighting a second cig and taking a drag.

"They still sting."

"Well, that's the chance you take when you avenge your husband. But don't get too proud of yourself, even Emmett Honeycutt got a punch in."

"Oh, I … I didn't notice."

"Well, you wouldn't … you were too busy trying to kill a man."

"Please," Ben virtually begged. "Don't mention that. Don't even joke about it. I can't believe I let myself do that."

"You didn't_ let yourself _do it," Brian said. "You just couldn't stop yourself there's a difference. Fucking hell," he shook his head as though imagining something horrible, "if he'd said those things about Justin …" he trailed off, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Ben nodded a little. "It's crazy what love can do to you, isn't it?" He said. "It can turn a nice guy into a monster."

"Or turn a promiscuous stud into monogamy," Brian mumbled under his breath. He wasn't sure that Ben had heard him, he kept quiet if he had and the rest of the car journey was silent, heavy and tense just like every moment of both their lives had been ever since the bomb. Ben because he'd been so close to losing Michael forever and Brian because he had lost Justin … but he was determined to get him back.

* * *

_Set after Justin has lunch with Mel and Lindsey in the diner and before Brian takes him to Bri-tin!_

_oOoOo_

"We realised what we lost before it was too late."

Justin had been thinking of those words ever since Mel had said them. They were resonating in his heart like an echo … or a warning. He could see the conversation he'd had with Brian earlier that day. The truth in his eyes as he'd asked him to marry him and Justin had blown him off … for what? A fear that Brian might not really go through with it, might not really mean it in the cold light of day. But Justin had never been the kind of person to turn away from an opportunity so why now? Why when all of his dreams could be coming true? He was just about to call Brian when Brian called him. If that wasn't fate nothing was.

"What are you doing later?"

"Nothing … why?"

"I've got something I wanna show you. I'll pick you up around 3?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Wait! What is it?"

"You'll see."


	81. Episode 512

_Just a little scene from sometime before the episode begins._

_oOoOo_

"What do you think?" Brian asked, holding up the wedding invitation cards. He'd picked them up on the way home from work. They were prefect, classy but understated with just enough decoration and details to make them stand out.

"They're amazing," Justin gushed, rushing over to the loft door to greet his fiance with a 'welcome home from work' kiss. "It's all amazing." He beamed, there arms holding each other, not letting go.

Brian decided he could definately get used to this. Happy Justin, living together, no constant push-pulling. It was good, really fucking good but of course he couldn't just say that. Instead he went down the route of sarcasm, as always.

"Amazing," Brian repeated, pulling his lips into his mouth. "You're using that word a lot recently."

"That's because it's the only word to sum up all this."

"All what?" Brian asked, with mock confusion.

"This," Justin grinned. "Us, marriage. It's…" he sighed contentedly and looked up at the older man who finished quietly;

"…amazing."

Justin smiled, "I thought you hated it when couples finish each other sentences."

Brian shrugged and said, "I used to hate a lot of things."

Justin's expression became suddenly strained. "You're not having second thoughts, are you? I mean it Brian, if you are…"

"I'm not having second thoughts," Brian promised. "I never do anything that I don't want to do, you know that."

Justin beamed up at him, sliding his arms up Brian's back until they were drapped around the taller man's neck.

"So you really want this?"

"More than anything," Brian replied solemnly and then they kissed. And it was all loving and romantic for a while until the passion took over and they were stripping in record time and as Brian kissed down Justin's neck and across his chest he knew he really did want this … them, for the rest of his life

* * *

_Set immediately before, and leading into, the final scene where Brian and Justin ... (you'll work out which one ;) ..)_

_oOoOo_

Brian slid the door of the loft open to find Justin sprawled on the floor surrounded by various shopping magazines and writing a list of suitable wedding gifts.

"What the fuck are you doing on the floor?" Brian asked. "There's a perfectly good sofa less than a foot away."

"I like this rug," Justin smiled, stretching out on the white shag rug allowing the fluffy strands to go between his fingers. "It feels nice."

"Uh-huh," Brian said, his face still just as confused. "Well, we'll have to make sure it goes to the new house with us then."

Justin beamed. He loved it when Brian talked about the knew place, _their _new place. Brian just smiled back. He couldn't help it, he'd been living as the totally monogamous, married man for two weeks now and so far he was almost painfully happy. It didn't make sense, he didn't miss the old ways, he didn't miss any of it. He could stay home with Justin and have just as much fun chilling out in the loft as he could getting blown in the backroom of Babylon. And it wasn't as though he wasn't fucking his brains out every night.

But there was a small doubt in the back of his mind, a doubt that had been caused by the magazine article Lindsey had shown him. He had the mag tucked in one of the large pockets of his coat and it felt like it burnt a whole of guilt through him, every time he felt it make contact with the side of his leg.

He shrugged out of his coat and hung it over the back of a chair, slipping the magazine into his hand.

"What's that?" Justin asked, looking up from his list.

Brian opened the page and showed it fleetingly to the younger man, before settling onto the sofa to read what the pompous asshole critic had to say about his fiancé.

"Shit," Justin swore under his breath. "You weren't supposed to read that."

"Why not?" Brian asked, reading the first couple of lines to himself and finding nothing but gushing appraisal.

"Because…." Justin said, trailing off limply.

Brian waited for a few seconds for Justin to elaborate but as he realised that was all the younger man had to offer he said;

"Well, as compelling an argument as that was … I'm still going to read it."

He'd got through the first half of the review before Justin spoke again.

"You've seen Lindsey then."

That made Brian look up. "Yeah, we took Gus to the park. Have you seen him throw the ball?" He smiled proudly, "he's brilliant."

"Maybe he'll be a football player."

"Imagine that," Brian screwed up his face in disgust, "my son, a jock."

"Could be worse," Justin said.

"How?"

"He could wind up gay." And then Justin gave a dramatic over the top shudder.

Brian leant over so he could kick Justin in the leg.

"Twot," he smiled fondly. After a few seconds, he continued, "and if he is gay, it won't have anything to do with me." Justin looked up curiously as Brian continued, "seeing as he's only going to be visiting us in the summer."

Justin's eyebrows shot up. "You said they could go?"

"It's for the best," Brian said honestly. "It's like Mel said, I've been winner of the disinterested father award ever since he was born."

"But I thought you were gonna change. You were going to be there for him." Justin was sat up now, kneeling next to Brian.

"I am," Brian stated firmly. "If he ever needs to talk to his old man, I'll be right there. They'll be back here every holiday, you know what Debbie's like about family at the holidays."

Justin nodded, he only wished he could forget how hectic Christmas had been round at Deb's house, though at least in amongst all the commotion he had Brian had managed to sneak upstairs to give each other their gifts … several times.

"But I can't hold him back when I know that moving away is what's best for him," Justin thought he saw Brian's eyes glance down at the magazine for a moment but he wasn't sure because almost immediately Brian continued grandly, "besides when he comes to stay with us in the summer and see's the garden and the swimming pool and the stables, he'll never want to leave."

Justin grinned. "I see. That's your cunning plan," he said softly before leaning in to kiss Brian. "Show him a good time, keep him wanting to come back until he stays forever."

"It worked on you," Brian smirked and Justin shot him a petulant little glare, which made Brian laugh a little and place another gentle kiss on Justin's lips. "Now," the older man stated firmly, "you get back to your list. And I'll get back to reading this." He held up the magazine and started from the point he'd ended at. "Oh," he added casually, "as Justin returned to lying on his belly, "don't forget to put shoes on that list."

* * *

_Cue scene … or should that be 'cute' scene. Quick, go watch it - sad but adorable all at the same time … story of season five QAF._

**Oh my god! Can you feel that ... I think it's the ... yes, it is. It's the end! And it's coming tomorrow. I know what you're thinking; 'what a mad day to end a story ... Friday the 13th' but I'm gonna bite back my super superstitious-ness and upload anyway!  
Write again tomorrow!  
LOVE YA!  
InconspicuousBunny...xx**


	82. Episode 513

***sings* And now, the end is near and so I face the final curtain… *stops singing because glass is starting to shatter***

**So, we've made it all the way to the final episode. A moment for all 82 bloody episodes. I've really enjoyed writing this and I'm glad that so many of you have reviewed and alerted and faved this story - you have no idea how much that means.**

**So … here we go with the very last episode…. (I've started with my favourite scene of the episode … The STAG DO!)**

* * *

"Er, 'ello, could I speak to Mr Taylor please?" A man said with a dodgy French accent down the phone. Or more accurately, Michael said with a dodgy French accent.

"Michael?" Justin frowned.

"Shhhhh," Michael hushed angrily. "I don't want Brian to know I called."

"Well, he's in the shower so I doubt he can hear you … or your accent."

"Well, that was Hunter's idea."

"Yeah, that's it," Hunter's voice could be clearly heard in the background, "blame the kid."

"I am blaming you," Michael responded, "now get back to your homework, I'm talking to Justin."

Justin couldn't help smile as he over heard the conversation, Michael telling his son to do homework. That could him and Brian someday or whenever Gus was plagued by homework that he wouldn't want to do. They'd have to tell him he wasn't allowed in the pool until it was all done and then, Justin would cook them all a meal and they'd sit around the table and eat together. But that was a few years off yet, Justin still wanted to club and dance at the moment, he wanted to slide around Woody's with a ring on his finger that told everyone that he was Brian's _and _that Brian was his. He wanted to play pool and darts and drink and maybe dance a little before falling into bed with the man he loved.

"Justin, did you get that?" Michael shouted in his ear.

"What? Huh?" Justin asked, he'd been so preoccupied with his fantasy, he'd lost all track of Michael's plan.

"Christ, artists," he muttered, "so easily distracted."

"Hey!" Justin protested.

"Listen," Michael cut him off. "Just get Brian to Woodies after 8. We're having a surprise Stag Party."

"We'll be there," Justin grinned.

"Okay then, and don't get distracted and end up fucking. I know what newly weds are like."

"We're not married yet," Justin pointed out but the smile was just as apparent in his voice as it was on his face. "Oh, the shower's just turned off," Justin whispered. "I gotta go. See you later."

He was just setting the phone down as Brian strolled into the room stark naked still dripping wet. Justin smiled hungrily and minced over.

"Hold it," Brian sighed, stretching out an arm so that his palm rested in the centre of Justin's chest. "I have to go to work, otherwise we're not going to be able to afford to get married, especially as we're forking out for Golden Gardenias."

"Fine," huffed Justin, settling for a kiss instead. "I'll go over to my apartment and work on some new pieces. You know Lindsey said people keep calling her wanting to buy my work - how great is that?"

"Great," Brian said going to the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Justin smiled.

"I'll see you this evening," Justin said, giving Brian one last kiss before leaving the apartment and heading straight for Woodys.

He ran up the steps beneath the red awning and was just going through the door when the burly doorman stuck out an arm and stopped.

"What the fuck?" Justin complained.

"You Justin Taylor?"

"Yeah," Justin frowned puzzled.

"I'm under strict instructions not to let you or your fiancé in here until tonight." Justin was disappointed for a moment as he tried to lean around the doorman to see what was going on inside but it was useless. Shit. He really _would_ have to go to his apartment and paint. He turned and walked down the steps and just as he reached the bottom step the doorman called, "by the way, Mr Taylor," Justin turned to look at the other man, "congratulations."

Justin just beamed at him. "Thanks."

* * *

_Set after Brian decided NOT to go with the hustler/stripper guy_

_oOoOo_

"What?" Brian demanded as he saw the look on Justin's face.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Never better," Brian smiled leaning in to kiss the younger man gently.

"But that guy was hot."

"You're hotter," Brian shrugged.

And that just made Justin frown even more. Brian had been spouting things like this ever since they'd decided to get married. He kept telling Justin how hot he was, how beautiful he was, how he was all he needed. He was like Mr Perfect, Mr Romantic. But it wasn't right, it wasn't … Brian.

"Jesus Christ," moaned Brian, when he saw the look on Justin's face, "what now?"

"Nothing," Justin shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Brian pulled a face which meant he knew Justin was lying to him but he just took another sip of his drink and smiled as another guy who's name he couldn't remember came over offering to buy them both a drink as a congratulations. He slid his arm around Justin's shoulders and kissed him again on the temple as he accepted the drink. The guy nodded and went off to the bar. Brian looked around as his friends and family danced and partied around him and decided he _could _be the man to give up all his old life for the man he loved.

* * *

_Set after the 'wouldn't you rather just cuddle' scene, when Brian and Justin make the decision to call off the wedding._

_oOoOo_

"So," Justin drawled, his hand running down his face, "what do we do?"

"We do what we have to do. You go to New York and become the biggest, most successful fucking artist you can be and I stay here and be the best fucking ad man I can be."

Justin nodded silently before turning his head to the side and saying softly, "I can't imagine being anywhere without you."

"It's like Debbie once said, 'we're just making different choices, that's all - it doesn't mean we don't still love each other.'"

"And we'll still see each other," Justin pointed out. "You can come to New York to visit and Deb will be dragging me back to Pittsburgh all the time."

Brian smiled. "Well, I never could get rid of you. I guess moving to another state's not going to stop you."

Justin gave a small chuckle before fixing his eyes carefully on Brian and whispering, "I love you."

"Me too," Brian replied solemnly and they both gave a watery smile before kissing gently, lovingly. Then Justin flicked off the lights and they went back to just lying there, staring towards the ceiling thinking about where this was taking them. They were still holding on to each other, it was as though they couldn't bear to be even slightly apart now that they knew this time was getting short. Brian knew he'd be able to go up to see Justin whenever he needed to. Hell, even some of his clients were in New York, he could claim it as a business trip if he wanted. Maybe he could look into buying a private plane with the money he'd get from selling Babylon and Bri-tin. He had no doubt that this whatever it was that they had … love, would be able to survive a few hundred miles of separation. After all, they'd survived Justin's homophobic father, they'd survived the bashing, they'd survived fucking Ian and Stockwell, the Pink Posse, cancer and Hollywood. They'd survived every single goddamn thing that had been thrown at them … and they'd survive this too. Brian was sure about that.

"If you ever need anything," Brian said slowly his voice breaking through the darkness. "Money, a place, anything … just, let me know. Just because you're living in a different state it doesn't mean I won't be there to support you."

"I know," Justin said quietly. "But I won't ask you for anything unless I really need it."

"Well, don't be a twot about it," Brian warned jokingly. "I don't wanna go to New York and find you're working your ass as a go-go boy … again."

Justin laughed a little through his nose and elbowed Brian playfully in the ribs. But their jokey mood didn't last long as the silence engulfed them once again and they starred up at the ceiling in the pitch-black bedroom. This was serious now, Justin could feel it, this was real; really real. Brian was making plans for the future, telling him not to worry about money, explaining that even if he was miles and miles away he'd still take care of him. And Justin knew, without any doubt, that he and Brian would be okay, despite this. They didn't need marriage, they didn't even need monogamy, all they needed was love and maybe a little determination. And the Taylor-Kinney Liberty Avenue power couple were nothing if not ridiculously in love and fiercely determined.

"I could have done it you know," Brian said eventually into the darkness.

It took a while for Justin to respond and Brian was just beginning to wonder if the younger man had fallen asleep when he asked softly,

"done what?"

"Been monogamous," Brian stated, "for you." He felt the younger man squeeze his hand.

"I know you could," Justin said seriously. "And I could have given up New York … for you."

Justin could feel Brian's head moving in a slow nod on the pillow and then, in the darkness and in the quiet where it was just them and would always be them, Brian said,

"I love you Justin Taylor. Always have, always will."

* * *

And it did survive because their love was stronger than that mangled, possessive jealousy that people mistake as love. Their love was that one in a million connection with another soul that's so deep inside and so intrinsically you that it can never be destroyed. It's the love little girls dream about and writers write about and people wish was there own. It's a love that survives everything that's thrown at it and that's how we know it's a love that lived on long after the camera's stopped rolling….

That _and_ CowLip said so in an interview… and I can't think of a happier ending than that.

* * *

**So there it is … I hope this is okay as a last chapter - I felt all under pressure haha.**

**Anyway, once again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed this fic, who's alerted or faved it, I could never have expected the response to be so positive and thanks to all those silent readers too … you know who you are!**

**Soooooo, now the time has come to leave one last little review. It would mean a lot to hear everyone's final thoughts! Go on all you alert-ers and fave-ers just hit that review button and say hi … you know you want to! Go on … please! I'll even take a little smiley face =D or a sad face if you didn't like it =( but your opinions mean a lot to me! *smiles in a way she hopes will make people feel sorry for her and review*.**

**Thanks again to each and everyone of you who made it this far!  
****InconspicuousBunny…xx**


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